


All or Nothing at All

by PatsysPyjamas



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angie is angry, Angie is struggling, Angry Sex, Angst, Cartinelli - Freeform, Drinking to Cope, Emotionally Hurt Angie, F/F, Hate Sex, Jealous Peggy, Memories, Non-Graphic Smut, Peggy's gone and mucked things up, peggy loves angie, post season two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatsysPyjamas/pseuds/PatsysPyjamas
Summary: Angie reflects upon her relationship with Peggy, as she learns the truth about Peggy's little indiscretions while in LA. Angie is heartbroken. Can she ever forgive Peggy?





	1. Overview

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first Cartinelli story. The title come from a lovely Frank Sinatra song (The 1939 version). Thank you to Steff for proofreading this for me. Enjoy..

** All or Nothing at All. **

It's fair to say that the moment Angie first laid eyes on Peggy in the Automat diner, she liked her. She had never encountered a woman like Peggy before. Angie believed dames like Peggy only existed on the cinema screen, but the English woman had entered into her life and it had been love at first sight for the Brooklyn born waitress.

The two slipped into an easy friendship. Polite pleasantries soon turned into genuine interactions, and Peggy's warmth shone through her brisk, no nonsense demeanor. Angie figured the war had left no one untouched. Everyone had their stories to tell and in time she hoped Peggy would trust her enough to let her in and share them with her. Heaven knew she had her own fair share of secrets.

A part of Angie knew she might be on a fool's errand, but Peggy Carter was a temptation Angie could not resist.

Life has a funny way of fixing everything into place, and Angie liked to think fate was shining down on her the day she found out Peggy was looking for a place to stay, as coincidentally the apartment next door to her own at the Griffith was empty. Yes, it must be fate, and Angie thanked her lucky stars that her former neighbour Helen couldn't hack the bright lights New York City had to offer.

So with Peggy living just next door, their friendship really blossomed, and so did the flirtation.

Angie was no fool. She was pretty perceptive; being an inspiring actress you had to be. You had to be able to read people, and Peggy coming home some nights limping and sporting some nasty looking bruises gave Angie the inkling that Pegs just didn't work at the telephone company as she so claimed. Her suspicions indeed proved correct.

Soon everything became clear to the good-hearted waitress. Well, it wasn't everyday you had to help the object of your desire hide from a bunch of bad tempered Government SSR agents. Besides, it wasn't her first time at the rodeo either. She'd played at being the decoy before when one of her brothers had gotten into trouble, and these SSR guys looked like pussycats compared to some of the men who ran certain parts of her old neighbourhood.

Peggy needed her help, and loyalty was something Angie Martinelli prided herself on. After all hadn't her Ma always instilled into her that you must _'love thy neighbour'._ So what's a gal to do? She couldn't very well feed Peggy to the wolves, as the poor girl stood balancing on the ledge outside of her window. She had to rescue her in anyway she could.

When Angie looked back on that very moment and reflected upon the look inside Peggy's fear ridden brown eyes, the blue eyed Brooklyner came to realise that she never doubted Peggy for a second. She knew in her heart Peggy was innocent. Maybe that was the precise moment her infatuation could be called love. Not the giggles over a glass of peach schnapps at some late hour, nor the sly touches of hand over a game of cards. She recalled the time when the two of them would increasingly find themselves looking longingly at one another while the soothing tones of Vaughn Monroe crooned at them over the wireless. Those moments were precious but Angie knew as she closed the window with Peggy still out there and New York City literally at her feet, while the fancy cops banged on her door, demanding she _open up_ , that Peggy was the gal for her. For this mysterious English woman she knew she would forever be a goner.

Her Papa would have been proud of her, as she faced down the group of agents who came bursting into her room. Heck, Angie was proud of herself as she began to weep on demand into the chest of the blond SSR schmuck with the fancy smelling cologne. Men could never handle a crying dame, even big timers like these guys. They couldn't wait to leave her room fast enough, but she had done it. She had given Peggy a chance to escape. Peggy was home free as far as Angie was concerned.

Their goodbye was bitter sweet, once the brunette was safely pulled back inside, but Angie wouldn't put her own needs first. Peggy had a mission of some sort that obviously needed to be completed and she wouldn't stand in the way of that. Angie would be patient and trust Peggy's word that she would explain everything someday soon. All Angie could do was watch Peggy's retreating figure and hope that wasn't the last time she saw her.

It was a pity her Oscar winning performance had all been in vain. Peggy had been caught. Phillipa from apartment 7G had said she was apprehended out in the hallway. Angie hadn't moved so quickly in all of her life, as she raced to the front entrance. Her heart pounded with every step. She felt responsible, she should have made sure the coast was clear before she let Peggy leave her place. It was all to late, Peggy was being shoved into the back of the Feds vehicle.

What would happen to her now?

Apparently nothing had happened to her, because just like that first day she strolled into the L&L diner all those months ago and turned Angie's life upside down, Peggy was doing it all over again. With her alluring smile and confident stride. She gently took hold of Angie's hand, and ushered her into the back of the sleek black Packard sedan. She then proceeded to inform her that she wasn't just a telephone operator.

No, Peggy herself was an agent of the SSR. Her Peggy was a spy.

At least life with Pegs would never be dull.

_'You saved me darling. With no questions asked, and for that I am eternally grateful. How would you feel about moving in with me rent free?'_

Angie learn't quickly that Peggy never did anything by halves. So how could the impassioned actress resist? It was fair to say Angie learned more about Peggy's job in those ten mintues than she learned over the past couple of months. Including that the rich have funny ways of saying thank you. Like how Peggy's friend from the war was none other than millionaire playboy Howard Stark, and if that wasn't enough to leave Angie's mouth gaping like a fish, to find out that he was loaning Peg his penthouse (rent free no less to boot).

Howard's fancy big penthouse was luxurious. As soon as she stepped inside Angie felt like she should be hired to clean the place, rather than move in. The small suitcase which held all of her belongings probably wouldn't fill two drawers in the grand oak dresser she spied on the grand tour, but who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? Isn't that what Mr Fancy had uttered?

"Do you like it, darling?"

Angie thought Peggy had never looked more radiant with the sunlight's beams surrounding her. Whatever weight had been on her shoulders seemed to have magically evaporated. Angie liked this look on her: happiness.

"Like it? Geeze Peg that's an understatement. You sure your pal wants me stayin' here?"

"Howard would be delighted." Peggy breezed over making Angie's breath feel trapped inside her lungs.

"Feels like more than I deserve."

"Poppycock! Angie my darling why would you speak such nonsense? You deserve nothing but the best."

When Peggy locked her eyes on her in this way, Angie couldn't help feeling like she was the most important person in the whole world. Angie wanted Peggy to look at her this way forever.

"Hmm sure."

"Angie this is merely bricks and mortar and alright... marble, but it's all meaningless. What's truly important is the person whom you share it with."

"Yeah?" Angie couldn't help the smirk that crossed her lips as Peggy stepped even closer, filling the last of Angie's personal space.

"And now that we are finally alone." Peggy backed the waitress closer against the wall as Angie swallowed down the lump suddenly forming in her throat.

"Did I ever thank you for saving me on the ledge?" Peggy leaned closer, her nose inches away from Angie's.

"Geeze, it was nothin' Pegs--"

"Angie?" Peggy interrupted with a grin.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," Peggy mocked playfully as she pressed her lips against Angie's.

The kiss was light. A gentle peck, it was only when a soft moan escaped from the back of Angie's throat, that Peggy deepened the embrace.

Angie felt the luckiest gal in the world, and perhaps she was.

\--

  
Life became bliss, more than she'd ever dreamed of or thought she truly deserved. She relished it all. From lazy Sunday mornings in bed held tightly in Peggy's strong arms, to the simple pleasure of ironing Peggy's blouse for her before she headed out to work. Angie loved it all.

She thought they were happy.

They were happy weren't they?

* * *

 

Insecurities. Everybody has them. Even Peggy, though she would never like to admit it. Peggy's jealous streak had a tendency to sometimes rear its ugly head, and was the cause of their first real argument. That particular disagreement occurred during one of Howard Stark's lavish parties. Angie looked as pretty as a picture as her great Aunt Arietta use to say. She turned every head as she entered the soiree. Not that she noticed, she couldn't take her eyes from Peggy's stunning dress. But Angie caught the attention of every man in the room, and the eye of one very rich clarinet maker's son, who insisted that he must dance with the most beautiful woman in the room. In hindsight, Angie wished she'd turned him down for the seventh time, but she figured one harmless dance wouldn't hurt and he might leave her alone to enjoy the rest of the party.

Boy, was she wrong!


	2. Pushing you away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie tries to pin point the moment Peggy starts growing cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to ride the wave of this story with me. Hold on tight because it's about to become a bit angsty, and  
> Angie may need a cuddle. Thank you again Steff, for reading this over. Enjoy... x

** All or Nothing at All. **

Peggy stepped away for a moment to use the bathroom. When she returned she found her girl being twirled around on the crowded dance floor by what she had named; _'The rich persistent wanker'_. She saw red. If Peggy could have drawn her pistol right there, she would have. What the agent hadn't divulged earlier in the evening, was just what a rotten morning she'd had at the _'office'_ , and seeing somebody else doing what she longed to do had really stuck the boot in. Peggy was envious that this sleazy cad got to hold Angie close and dip her in time to the choppy jazz beat.

Anger coursed through Peggy faster than all the bourbon and champagne she had imbibed. It didn't help that _'the wanker'_ became Angie's shadow for the rest of the evening. Every move he made, from laughing a little too loudly at every cute little joke or remark Angie made, to the way his hand kept finding a place at her lover's lower back, had Peggy's fingers twitching for her handgun that was concealed in the specially crafted Stark designed inner thigh holster. He just wouldn't leave Angie alone, even after Angie had graciously declined another ten offers of a second dance. Some people never did take a hint.

Peggy knew taking all her frustrations out on Angela, probably wasn't the best move, but that didn't stop her behaving like a spoilt sulking teenager for the rest of the party. She persisted in making snide comments under her breath whenever Angie tried to engage in conversation with the fellow guests (and _'the wanker'_ ). The brunette couldn't seem to stop herself. The agent knew what was really bothering her, it was the fact that _this_ irritating man could potentially give _her_ Angie a normal life. Something she never could.

Their evening was well and truly ruined, and the couple couldn't wait to make their excuses to leave. Neither of them exchanged a single word as they were driven home by Mr. Jarvis. The silence remained in place until the morning when Angie felt Peggy wrap her arms around her waist. The whispered apology came a few seconds later followed by a long slow kiss.  
  
-

The actress spent a considerable amount of time pondering all the different sides of the Peggy she had come to know after that night.

More than a few words sprang into the forefront of her mind during this process.

Loving, gorgeous, intelligent, stylish, beautiful, funny, humble, thoughtful, headstrong, always thinks she is right, until sometimes she isn't, crappy cook and did she mention gorgeous?

Now Angie wasn't a mind reader, but she seemed to possess the ability to read Peggy's every emotion without even trying. Angie considered her powers to be a gift, because Peggy Carter wasn't always the easiest dame to read. Her English gal could be closed off and drift away into her own thoughts more often than not, but Angie always seemed to know what she wanted. She would instinctively be there just when Peggy needed her, be it to hand her a fresh cup of tea or to run a hot bath so Peggy could ease tired muscles. (Like magic, she knew when to give Peggy space too, so that she could review confidential work files or relax with the latest Agatha Christie.)

Angie's personal favourite was when Peggy needed a cuddle. Angie would just about do anything for her gal, willingly.

After all, true love, was more than grand romantic gestures. It was the little things, and Angie adored the little things no one but her got to see.

She knew Peggy needed her, but she also knew that very notion scared the Agent beyond words.

Angie didn't blame her. Peggy was so used to being by herself, flying solo, and that kind of living would take its toll on anyone. Despite how brave they appeared. You would naturally shut down, close yourself off to a loving hand. They didn't call it _'self preservation'_ for nothing.  
  
So Angie could see why it would seem easier to live in isolation, but the blue eyed girl didn't want that kind of existence for Peggy. The British beauty deserved so much more. She deserved love. Everybody needed someone and Angie wanted to be that someone for her _'English'_.

Angie wanted to be in the thick of it with Peggy for the long haul.

* * *

 

 

_'I would hate for you to grow tired of me, darling.'_

It was a phrase Angie heard often from her lover. Peggy might utter the words in jest, but Angie knew the humour was disguising a deeper fear. An anxiety Peggy had. Angie wondered if Peg worried that she would simply _'grow tired'_ of the spy life style. Grow tired of Peggy sometimes having to leave at odd hours without being able to explain fully where she was or what she was doing. Grow tired of patching up her light cuts and deeper wounds, or tire of the little white lies Peggy spun about the extent of the danger she was in or the injuries themselves?

To be honest, Angie knew that she would never be entirely sure because Peggy wouldn't tell her. To be fair Angie didn't push the issue either. She figured Peggy had enough on her plate without the _'old lady'_ nagging when she got home.

Sometimes Peggy's other _'fears'_ would rise to surface in other ways. Angie had been woken up in the middle of the night a couple of times. Peggy's semi-conscious form tossing and turning beside her, mumbling faint distressing cries of _'Angie'_ under her breath. Once the waitress was snatched out of her slumber by the sound of Peggy's voice. All the sweetness from her tone had seemed to dissolve and it was replaced by a cold harsh hiss.

_'Let her go, or I swear to God, I'll kill you.'_

Even though she knew her gal was dreaming, Angie knew she meant it. Peggy would protect her with everything she had, to her last breath if necessary.

_'Angie, you would be better off without me.'_

At first, she thought Peggy was awake. Her voice was clear and brooked no trace of sleep. It wasn't until the hopeful actress turned over to face her that she realised the agent was sound asleep. Her eyes, though closed moved rapidly behind her sleeping eyelids.

_'You'll be safer without me, my darling.'_ Peggy had uttered seconds later.

Those bitter thoughts whirling inside her brain while she slept, made tears roll down Angie's sweet loving face. It also struck fear deep inside her heart. Angie knew Peggy would sacrifice her own happiness, if it meant Angie could remain safe.

She didn't want to dwell on that for too long.

But now the cat was out of the bag. Peggy's thoughts had betrayed her while she slept. Seeping inside of Angie's subconscious mind, awakening the little nasty voice buried deep in the back of Angie's mind. A nagging doubt, that Peggy could leave her behind. That she had never really been good enough for Peggy. After all she was just a girl from Brooklyn, with a big dream and a smart mouth. She wasn't no superhero. Peggy deserved a hero.

Then out of nowhere, a single moment would cast out all those silly doubts. Peggy would look at Angie like no one had ever looked at her. Peggy would glance at her like she meant something. Like she was the most precious thing in all of this world, and in those moments she actually believed her. Maybe she was something special after all?

And since when did Angie Martinelli let herself be controlled by her fears. She would continue to give all of herself to Peggy. Completely.

  
Who knew her life would change after one phone call?

Her eldest brother, Adao used to tell her _'you have to make your own luck in this world bambino'._ Now she believed she should have listened to him.

-

Angie was fine after _'the little incident'_ as Mr. Jarvis had described it, as he assisted her home that night. That did not stop the look of absolute panic wash over Peggy's face, as Angie limped through the penthouse door. Angie always figured that life changes you, or more accurately, people change you. Alter your views, and your silly ideals and she wasn't wrong.

Angie had always looked out for those who were less fortunate than herself. If there was anyway in which she could help out, she would. She knew Sammy meant no real harm. He was pushing seventy, but that didn't mean he didn't have a solid right hook. She blamed herself for not seeing the fist before it made contact with her face. Her brother had taught her how to duck and dodge a swinging punch. Even Peggy had taught her a few basic defense moves, so really her pride stung more than her swollen lip and throbbing ankle.

Angie never called Sammy a bum the way the other girls did at the L&L. To them he was a nuisance, and best avoided, but Angie saw only a man down on his luck. Her Ma had been firm when she wagged her finger and told her children to _'respect your elders'_ , and Angie always listened to her Ma's advice. Really Sammy only came around when the Automat was closing up, begging for a cup of hot coffee or some food. The leftover sandwiches were just going to be tossed out anyway, so Angie without fail would let him inside and give him the food. She'd never seen a man devour a couple of turkey and bologna sandwiches so gratefully before.

He would smile at her wider than a kid at a ball game, as he extended his dirt covered hand across the booth. Angie would always take it, wrap her warm palm around his cold callused hand and squeeze.

_'Bless you, kid.'_ He would always whisper.

Tonight however, was the first time he'd ever shown up drunk. It was the first time he'd ever been angry. The old guy was swaying on his feet, spouting a bunch of incoherent slurred words. Angie tried to calm him. She tried to use her best soothing tone, and the offer of a sobering cup of Joe, but Sammy misread her kindness when she looped her arm in his and he tackled her to the floor.

As Angie felt herself thud against the sidewalk, she heard a shout of alarm from Mr. Fancy.

Once Peggy had given orders about something, she expected them to be obeyed. Whether it be about them not eating their supper again on Howard's fancy velvet sofa (who knew Mac and Cheese would be so difficult to wash out?) Or that Angie must always be escorted home when she had to close up the diner after the late shift. If Angie was being honest she didn't mind when Peggy's goofy love-struck grin greeted her through the revolving doors.

The waitress figured Peggy must have got held up at work, because she always met Angie on her Thursday shift. Instead she saw Jarvis darting towards her as he witnessed Sammy grappling her to the ground as if he were a Linebacker. The old man got really spooked then. Angie saw his eyes widen like a cornered animal, and that's when he started swinging, right in the line of Angie's unsupecting jaw. Jarvis managed to the pull the old man to his feet, as Angie's howl of pain echoed down the deserted street. Soon after that Sammy began to beg for his life. The realisation washed over him, as his eyes adjusted to Angie still lying somewhat crumpled on the city streets.

''I'm s-sorry, Angie. S-sorry.'' He wept, bending down to touch her face softly.

''It's alright Sammy, I'm made outta tough stuff.'' She tried to shrug it off, but the down-and-out only sobbed harder.

''S-sorry.'' He repeated, stumbling off into the night.

''Should I perhaps go after him? He did, after all attack you, Miss Martinelli.'' Jarvis asked, keeping a firm hold of her as he helped Angie back on her feet.

''Nah. He didn't mean nothin' by it.'' Angie shrugged, clicking her jaw a few times as she limped along to Howard's motor car.

''Is Miss Carter aware that you help out the local tramps?''

Angie only shook her head, as Mr. Fancy held the door open for her.

''You know she won't be pleased with either of us when she sees your injuries.''

To call the British's butler's comment an understatement would have been putting it lightly. Peggy was enraged!

\--

It had been a whole week since Sammy gave his best impression of Rocky Marciano, but that didn't stop Peggy from treating Angie like she was made of glass. The spirited actress couldn't understand why her gal was taking a sprained ankle and cut lip so seriously. She'd tried her best to reassure her English lover, that sometimes _'shit happens'_ , but Peggy didn't seem convinced.

Even as Angie's heartbeat tried to find its steady rhythm, as the still calm of bliss settled over the loving couple, Angie could see the searching look inside of Peggy's brown peepers, as her eyes scanned over every inch of Angie's pretty face.

"What you thinkin'?" Angie asked, as her hand moved from Peggy's bare shoulder, to cup her face. Her thumb traced the pink blush on Peggy's cheek, which served as the only remaining clue to their intimacy.

"Oh... Nothing in particular." Came the reply, which Angie knew was a brush off. It was written all over Peggy's perfect features. Her mind was still chewing over the fact she should have been the one who took Angie home that night, instead of working over time on those case files. Angie knew Peggy was beating herself up for something she wouldn't have been able to change.

Sammy truly never meant any harm. He was just having a bad day and Angie just happened to bear the brunt of it. Still, Peggy in her rage that night had told Angie never to speak to that man ever again. The waitress had dismissed her gal, with a loud puff of air, until she winced at her cut lip. When she went to work a few days later, she had found a bunch of flowers, most likely swiped from out of the park. The daisies were tied together with a piece of worn looking brown string, and attached was a tatty looking bit of paper with _'To Angie_ ' scrawled with skaky penmanship.

Angie was touched that he'd even bothered to apologise at all. Most of the jerks she'd served in the Automat wouldn't be so thoughtful. Peggy on the other hand asked that they get thrown out with the trash. Just the sight of those flowers seemed to deepen the sudden frown in her gal's forehead.

So Angie did. She threw them away.

_'Sorry right back at ya, Sammy.'_ She had uttered right before the flowers met the rest of the garbage.

"Don't give me that, English. You're wearin' that look again." Angie playfully teased, as Peggy leaned forward covering her lips against Angie's.

"I'm fine, darling." Peggy smiled as she rolled over from the top of Angie's petite frame.

Angie knew better, but she also knew you couldn't make her Pegs open up if she didn't want to.

\--

Peggy's mood seemed to only become more bizarre in the following weeks, and Angie wished her gal would open up about what was eating her up. This couldn't be all down to a split lip.

How could a person seem so overly protective and be absolutely cold and distant all at once? Peggy was closing herself off, and Angie could do nothing but watch.

* * *

 

Angie could be naive, yes. She could admit that, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what game Peggy was playing, as they lay in bed one evening. If Peggy was trying to hurt her, she succeeded. Angie had stopped reading about the new unmissable play that was showing down town, the moment she heard who Peggy was trying to reach on the phone. The actress had her pride, and pretended to keep reading her magazine as she listened to Peggy beside her.

''Yes. I was trying to reach Agent Sousa... Yes, please tell him it is Agent Carter... Yes. I will hold.''

Angie could feel Peggy's stare burn right through her. She didn't need to turn to Peggy to know that the other woman's eyes were on her. No, Angie could always feel her. Vice versa for Peggy too.

''Oh? He isn't available to take my call? No, no that is quite all right. Just tell him that I called, and I will try to contact him again another time. Goodbye.''

Angie was a ball of rage as she heard the phone receiver click back down against its cradle. Peggy seemed nothing but determined on her personal mission of _'Let's push Angie out of my life, for her own good'_ claptrap. Peggy really should know better. Angie was as stubborn as a mule, and it would take more than Peggy's sudden martyrdom to be rid of her. Angie Martinelli didn't quit nothin', and she wasn't gonna start now. Instead, she gripped the magazine tigher in her hands until the paper began to crease.

Peggy had played her hand well in choosing this Sousa guy to call. She knew just what buttons to press to make Angie's temper flare up. Sousa had been sweet on Pegs, right up until he moved out to the Los Angeles SSR branch. He'd even asked Peggy out for a drink a couple of times, but Peggy had always turned him down with the same old line _'maybe some other time'_. Angie was well aware that Peggy thought he looked attractive, because she had told her once when Angie had teased her about the guys at the office, but Peggy always reassured her with, _'Darling, I love only you'_ whenever Angie was feeling particularly insecure. Angie trusted her gal and thought nothing more about it.

So, Peggy trying to call him now in front of Angie was clearly a message she wanted Angie to hear loud and clear.

Angie refused to take the bait.

\--

Peggy had won.

She was leaving. Bound for Los Angeles to help Sousa with an urgent case.

The perky waitress had found herself leaving her afternoon shift early, as Peggy came bustling into the diner telling her all at once that she was needed in L.A in a couple of hours. Angie barely had time to blink, let alone process all of the information.

Angie should have realised sooner. After all Mr. Fancy had been out there for weeks now. As Howard's right hand man it made sense. Howard had work over there, as well as trying his hand at being a director. Peggy had joked that all Howard wanted was to _'eye up all the talent'_. He had of course offered Angie a role in his new big production, but Angie had refused. She told him she wanted to make it on her own. Angie figured, he only stopped asking if she'd changed her mind, once Peggy threatened to _'kick his bloody arse'._

Now she wished she had taken Howard up on his offer.

Instead, she stood frozen in their bedroom doorway as Peggy was packing her suitcase. Peggy was really going to leave, and walk out of their home leaving everything unresolved.

"Y-your leavin' me?" Angie couldn't help the shake in her voice as she asked the obvious question.

Peggy halted all movement, before she threw down the blouse she was holding. She slowly turned to Angie, with a watery smile and Angie felt her knees ready to give out from under her.

"No." Peggy replied in a simple tone, stepping closer to Angie. "It's true that I don't know how long I will be needed over there, but I shall return."

"Do you promise?" Angie asked, her eyes automatically drifting closed as Peggy cupped her cheek.

"I promise." She sealed her words with a long kiss.

"I love you Peggy, please don't forget that." Angie whimpered against her lips.

"I love you."

Angie wished she could hate Peggy at this moment. She wanted to lash out, throw that stupid suitcase out the window and demand that Peggy stay put here where she belonged, but she knew there would be no point. Peggy would still leave.

"Take care of yourself over there Peg." Angie sighed, as she latched herself tightly against Peggy's arm, while they waited for the cab to arrive to take her to the air port.

"I will, my darling and I will call you as often as I can," Peggy told her, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm gonna miss ya. Will you miss me?" Angie tried to suppress her tears.

"Of course I am going to miss you." Peggy placed another tender kiss to her forehead this time. "Don't forget your drama class has been moved to Friday evenings, instead of Wednesday." The agent placed both of her hands on either side of Angie's face and stared down at her for a long moment, until the sound of a honking car horn interrupted their moment. Angie wished she knew what her gal was thinking.

"My taxi is here." Peggy whispered, before bringing her lips to Angie's.

"Call me when ya land, English, and I've packed that new book I got in your hand luggage because I know how ya hate long haul flights."

"What would I do without you, my darling?" Peggy pecked her lips before heading towards the front door.

Angie's heart was breaking, it did every time Peggy went out on a mission. Still, this was the life, and the gal she had chosen.

With her hand hovering over the door knob, Peggy let out a deep exhale and dropped her case. With a sad smile, she turned back around to Angie and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist.

"I do love you, Angie."

Before Angie could reply, Peggy kissed her passionately. With their foreheads pressed together, Angie's hand traced along the gold necklace around Peggy's neck.

"Come home soon." Angie told her, as they heard another honk coming from outside.

"Goodbye."

With that Peggy left, taking with her Angie's heart.

Once she had waved the cab off, she could allow herself to cry. Let the bank burst and let her sorrow flow. The loss of Peggy was already thudding away inside of her chest. As she tried to catch her breath, her legs finally buckled, sending her crashing down to the ground.

With a whimper, she lay there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More very soon... x


	3. Feelin' mighty lonesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie sure is missin' Peggy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little more about Angie's past, but there will be some more angst along the way. Thank you Steff for proof-reading this for me. Enjoy... x

** All or Nothing At All. **

It's strange how you can feel the void of somebody's absence almost immediately. Angie could feel the emptiness surrounding her. She wondered if Pegs was thinking about her. Most likely, Peggy was already half way through the paperback she was probably reading. The one Angie lovingly packed for her, along with some of her home made cookies she knew Peggy adored so much.

Angie didn't usually get this weepy so quickly. Granted she'd be upset but she always told herself ' _Pegs will be home soon enough_ '. This time however felt different.

Peggy seemed different.

 

She didn't know how long she had been lying there, staring up at the ceiling on the bed she shared with her gal. A part of her didn't care. So much of Angie's life lately had been dedicated to taking care of Pegs. Without her there, she felt at a loss. She found herself trying to memorize the look inside Peggy's eyes before she left. Such sweetness, such tenderness held in them. Angie wanted to sear the image into her mind.

Angie thought about the promise Peggy had made her. The promise she would return home once this case was solved, but how long would she have to wait? How long would she be prepared to wait? Forever?

The lonely girl prayed she was worrying over nothing. That Peggy would return in a week or perhaps two. Their lives and all things in it returning back to normal.

Angie dramatically threw herself forward on the bed, as she clicked on the side lamp. The sudden burst of light chased away the shadows as she picked up the picture frame beside her. With a gentle touch she traced the outline of Peggy's smiling face, and carefully placed the photo by her bed. It would reside there until Peggy's return.

"You ain't gonna do it to me, are ya Pegs?" She asked the glass covered image. "You ain't gonna follow through with your noble, stiff upper lip routine are ya? Try to save me from the danger that is your life, Peg? Throw yourself on your sword, like those guys do in all those dumb fairy tales? Cause that ain't fair Peg!" The girl folded her arms across her chest, staring at the photo frame.

"Remove yourself outta the equation because ya know damn well I never would. Ya know I ain't leavin' of my own accord Peggy Carter. Ya stuck with me, do ya hear?" Angie huffed, pointing her index finger at Peggy's smile.

With a loud sigh, she flopped against the covers, rolling to Peggy's side of the bed. Her anger caused her to grab the edge of the pillow tightly.

The more those thoughts invaded their way inside Angie's mind, the more she felt like she could blow her fuse, right at that stupidly brave, beautiful woman of hers.

"Damn you Margaret Elizabeth Carter! And damn all those insecurities that have tied up the rational part of ya brain." Angie snapped to the empty room.

She felt like she was going crazy with the all uncertainty. With a deep sigh, she decided to go fix herself some dinner and wait for Peggy's call like the good little woman she had become.

\--

When the call finally came it was at three o'clock in the morning. With her eyes still half closed and voice groggy, the waitress picked up the phone, and felt her heart pound at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello darling."

"Hey you." Angie gave a sleepy smile, as she sank back down under the covers with the phone pressed close to her ear.

"I do believe I may have woken you up."

"Nah. I just wanna hear about your day, English."

So Angie dutifully listened while Peggy rattled on about the dry heat of L.A, Howard's new pet flamingo, and how she'd been practically solving this mission single-handedly. Angie couldn't help but smile wider into the phone. Peggy sounded a little more like her old self than she had done in weeks.

Maybe being in the heart of the action was just what her gal needed. A few grazed knuckles always seemed to put the spring back in Peggy's step.

Her smile was soon wiped away with what she heard Peggy utter next.

"Do you want to hear something rather amusing, darling? I was asked if I would like to go for dinner, followed by a bit of dancing." Peggy laughed, as Angie could feel her heart rate accelerate.

With the long distance call falling silent, Peggy spoke again. "I of course politely declined." She reassured.

"Who asked ya out?" Angie loathed the sudden uncertainty in her tone.

"Oh a Dr. Wilkes. Just a scientist who had some information regarding the case."

"A scientist huh? Well, I'm glad you told him to stick it, English. Unless I gotta fly out there and give him the hard stare?"

"No, I don't believe that will be necessary darling." Peggy chuckled breathily. "Sorry, I couldn't speak to you earlier, but please know I was rather desperate to hear your voice."

"I missed that accent of yours too, Pegs."

The second silence was more comfortable, as Angie heard Peggy settle herself against the bed.

"So you met anyone famous yet?"

"I did, actually. The name was lost on me, but I was told by Mr. Jarvis that she is someone from the silver screen. A Miss Whitney Frost."

"Shut up! You're kiddin' me right?" Angie gasped, talking even quicker than usual. "You've been in L.A. all but a day and you've already met the Whitney Frost? Is she a total knock out in real life as she is on screen?"

"Since when have you taken an interest in blondes?" Peggy teased, but her tone was firm.

"Since Whitney Frost, that's when, and she ain't no rusty hen." 

"Well, I didn't like her." Peggy knew she sounded petulant with her reply, but she didn't much care.

"I bet ya didn't, but did ya at least manage to get an autograph for me?"

"Sorry darling."

"Why don't that surprise me? Anyway, how's the food over there?"

"Edible. It does not hold a candle to your culinary delights darling."

"Glad to hear it, English. But ya know what that means, don't ya? Ya gotta hurry home so I can feed ya up. I don't want your curves wastin' away now."

The couple continued to talk until Angie was practically asleep, the last words she heard Peggy mutter was something about the handgun that was hidden in a secret compartment in their bed side dressing table. Her sleep became somewhat restless that night.

* * *

 

Angie was bored.

Peggy had only been gone for a couple of days and the actress was beside herself with boredom. With no work or auditions to fill her time, Angie found herself in the large dining room trying to complete a very large jigsaw puzzle. It had originally been an unwanted Christmas present from Mr. Jarvis, but now the blue eyed girl was grateful for a distraction. She'd try anything to help her deal with this unsettled mood she was finding herself in.

' _Beggars can't be choosers_ ,' Angie had shrugged, as she stared down at the image of the 'Big Ben' clock tower.

Two hours later, and she was sick of the sight of the London clock face.

The lanky girl needed company and fast. She needed something more besides the silence the penthouse had to offer.

She just didn't know what to do with herself. And with the whole day still out in front of her, she decided to board a train from Manhattan bound for Brooklyn.

The last time she had seen her family was at the Martinelli's Thanksgiving dinner. Peggy had accompanied her, and her gal had eaten everyone under the table. Even Angie's _'I could eat a horse'_ brother had to admit defeat on the fourth slice of pie, which Peggy happily finished off.

' _I was rather ravenous_ ,' Peggy had exclaimed to the whole Martinelli clan.

Angie had never seen her Ma smile so much as she piled the extra portions onto Peggy's stuffed plate.

' _She's a keeper_ ,' her mother had whispered, while Angie was drying the dishes later. Her face had never looked so flushed.

Angie's _'quirk'_ was something only her mother was aware of, and with time and many prayers, she had reached an inner understanding about the way Angela wanted to live her life. She tried to accept her daughter's differences by showing her love. That didn't mean Angie was comfortable enough discussing her love life, but Mrs. Martinelli knew her little girl all too well, and could clearly see that Miss Carter meant something very dear to her bambino.

  
Mrs. Martinelli doted on all her children, but Angie was the apple of her mother's eye. Being not only the youngest, but the only girl born to the Martinelli's; Angie could do no wrong in her Ma's eyes. Not her _'little Angelica'_.

Angie thought that would all change. Angie thought her world would shatter. Spin off its axis never to be the same again, but she was wrong.

The bond of love can be surprising.

 

Teresa Cardini fascinated the young Angela. Maybe it had been her bright blue eyes, and butter wouldn't melt smile. Perhaps it was all the stolen kisses they shared. Kisses that decided the path Angie wanted to be on for the rest of her life.

The two were once inseparable, but it was Angie who somehow always found herself running obediently at Teresa's heel. Some would have called Angela easily led, but she never saw it that way. She would have followed Teresa to the ends of the earth. In Angie's young mind, she thought Teresa must be the only other gal in the world that was _'like'_ her. The only other girl, who thought about soft red painted lips, perfumed hair, and delightful curves.

Angie wondered how these feelings could be wrong, when something as simple as Teresa's smile made her feel so very alive.

She learned quickly that behind Teresa's good girl expression lay a temptress in the making, seemingly intent on leading Angie into situations that ordinarily she wouldn't have got into all by herself. Even the taste of her first cigarette was courtesy of sweet Teresa.

' _Come on, don't be such a scaredy-cat, Angela. Everybody does it._ '

Angie was smitten.

Maybe some risks should not be taken, but hindsight is a wonderful thing and Angie had never felt so good. Sweet sixteen and almost everyone from the neighbourhood was going to help her celebrate. Her Ma and Nonna had not only prepared a selection of delicious foods, but had made for their little Angelica the prettiest dress Angie had ever seen. Everything seemed so perfect.

Not all things in life are meant to last. Some bonds are fleeting, and how was Angie to know that one moment would change everything.

Teresa was persistent, and always got what she wanted. Angie was powerless to resist as she felt Teresa grab her hand and lead her away from the crowd at the Martinelli street party. As the two giggling girls ascended the stairs to Angie's small bedroom, her body was already thrumming with anticipation. Tingling with heat as Teresa's soft finger tips made contact with her skin.

"I wanna give the birthday gal something extra special." Teresa whispered in her ear.

Angie found herself backed against the wall, lost in the thrill of heated kisses and roaming hands. The intensity washed quickly over her body, hitting its crescendo mere seconds later, leaving her gasping for breath.

"You liked that?" Teresa teased, as she giggled against Angie's shoulder.

All the girl could do was nod, as Teresa reclaimed her lips.

"My turn," she whispered, rocking herself against Angie's slender hips.

The giddy teens were so lost in the their own private moment, that they didn't hear the creaking of the stairs. They never heard the call of Angela's mother, until it was all too late as the door knob turned, opening the door.

"Shit." Teresa muttered, as Angie desperately tried to disentangle herself from her lover.

It was much too late, as they both watched on in horror as Angie's mother discovered her _'little Angelica'_ with her hand up Teresa's party dress.

Angie could already feel the stream of tears, as she locked her eyes upon her mother. Who continued to remain rooted to the spot. Shell shocked. The trembling teen figured time must have slowed down, as the world she once knew gradually ground to a halt. With her cheeks flushed and eyes pleading, Angie took a tentative step forward as heartbreak filled her mother's once adoring gaze.

"Ma?" Angie uttered in panic, as Mrs Martinelli grabbed Teresa by her ear.

"Stupido ragazza!" 

"Scusa, Mrs Martinelli. Scusa." The girl whimpered, as she was pulled forward.

"I want you to go home." She demanded, gripping tighter. "You are no longer welcome as a guest in my house. You are not to speak of this to anyone, and you are never to speak to my daughter again!"

"Ma please." Angie begged, as she tried to grab for Teresa's hand.

"Is that understood?" Mrs Martinelli asked, finally letting go of the sobbing girl, as she cried out a faint _'yes'_.

The elder woman turned her attention onto her daughter, and for the first time in her life Angie was afraid of her mother. "This is for your own good." She warned, "Tell her goodbye, and she must go."

The two girls locked eyes, as Teresa's bottom lip quivered. "S-sorry." Was all she muttered before she ran out of the room.

Angie heard ringing in her ears, as she tried to focus her mind on what had just transpired.

What would happen to her now? Would she be made to leave? What would she do without her Ma in her life?

  
"You need to wash your face." Mrs Martinelli sighed, as she wiped away her daughter's tears with her handkerchief. "Your father wants you to show Uncle Dario the new typewriter he has brought you for your birthday."

Angie simply nodded.

"You are young, and will learn. I will pray for guidance, Angela."

"I'm sorry Mama." Angie bound into her Ma's arms and held on for dear life.

"You are not to see that troublesome girl ever again. Do I make myself clear Angela?"

"Y-yes, Ma." Angie trembled in her mother's arms. "W-will you tell Papa? Will I have to leave?"

Angie felt her chin being lifted, as her mother stared down at her. "Angelica! No, no. You are my only daughter, and I will let no harm come to you. I will keep this secret, and carry its burden. You are my little bambino. _Mine_." She cradled her little girl tighter.

Angie had never felt so thankful in all of her young life. She would find herself praying extra harder that night.

  
\--

Once the Martinelli's had given their word on something, they would honor it. Angela was no different, and she wouldn't usually dream of disobeying her mother's orders, but this time she had little choice. She had to see Teresa one last time. She had to know if Teresa was all right. If she was hurting just as much as Angela had been.

She just had to see her.

Angie knew the risks involved. She knew how careful she would have to be, but that didn't stop the heartbroken girl from sneaking out of her bedroom window. She hadn't seen her best friend in days, and Teresa had been avoiding all of their usual haunts. Angie was determined to find her even if the weather had turned against her.

Almost losing hope; there was just one place left to look, before she would have to admit defeat. Her Ma would be returning home from work in less than an hour and Angie couldn't bear the thought of disappointing her mother again.

A million questions seem to swirl inside her head, as she climbed the rusty ladder on the old fire escape to the roof top. Angie and Teresa had found their own private slice of heaven, atop of Norton's run-down general store. The pair had spent countless hours contented just to watch the stars above them. Angie always felt like they were the only two kids in all of Brooklyn.

If Angie had known this would be their last encounter, she might have done things differently. Acted differently, but as it was, the fear of the inevitable clouded her every thought.

"What you doin' here, Martinelli? You shouldn't be here."

The girl didn't even bother to turn her head as Angie approached. She simply continued to drink from the bottle she was holding.

"How'd ya know it was me?" Angie sighed, as she took a seat beside her on the ground.

Teresa shrugged. "Who else was it gonna be?"

The two sat in silence for what seemed like hours, until Angie felt the need to break the stillness.

"Where did ya swipe the whisky from?" Angie asked, as she was finally offered the bottle.

She grimaced at the taste, as Teresa shrugged her shoulders.

"I've been worried about ya."

"Ange... You... You need to go." Teresa snatched the bottle back.

"Ma won't be home yet."

Teresa gave a bitter burst of laughter, as she drank another large swig from the bottle. "I didn't mean that."

"Oh."

"I thought you should know that I've started goin' steady with Bobby."

Angie felt a wave of nausea over come her, as she turned away from her friend. "Why? You can't stand him."

"You know why." She sighed, as she montioned between them. " _This_. Whatever it was. It's done... Now... leave me alone."

Angie felt numb.

She felt confused, as she got to her feet. She knew she should try to put up a fight, but she didn't. Angie walked away. Away from their friendship, and away from what could have been. She was taking the easy way out, but there simply wasn't enough heart left to fight.

No matter what they did, they would never win.

"Angie!"

The young girl halted all movement, gripping tightly to the ladder as she watched Teresa come closer.

"I..." Teresa mumbled, before she pressed her lips tenderly against Angela's lips.

She tasted of whisky. The taste would haunt her. Bourbon would always taste like sorrow.

"Just... Take care of yourself, Martinelli." She whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind Angela's ear, with a sad smile.

Angie knew deep down that would be the last time she would see Teresa's smile, and she was right.

The weeks passed, and Teresa upheld her promise. She removed herself from Angela's life.

Everything soon returned to normal, and eventually Angie stopped crying.

\--

 

Angie adored the comfort her family gave her, but she knew with work looming tomorrow that she would have to return to the silence of the penthouse. She was surprised she had the energy to move with the amount of food she had eaten.

' _Thin. Much too thin_.' Her Nonna had shaken her head at the sight of her, before she gave her granddaughter a crushing hug.

The waitress had tantalized her taste buds with her mother's cooking. Happily immersed herself back in family life for a few hours, and avoided her sister-in-law, Aletta's endless questions of when she was going to find herself a decent man.

' _I ain't goin' fishin' Aletta.'_ ' Angie had sighed, around a mouthful of food.

' _Why_? _When there is so many good lookin' guys just waitin'_ for _the right doll to come along._ ' Aletta exhaled her breath of smoke with an exasperated sigh. Angie tried to pretend she couldn't hear the gentle sigh her mother let slip.

' _I gotta focus on my actin'_.' Angie hoped this answer would be enough of a reason for the topic to be dropped.

She could always count on her Nonna.

' _My angel is meant to be on the stage._ ' Nonna smiled adoringly, and Angie hoped that were true.

 

When Angie returned home, she found a postcard from L.A. waiting for her, along with a parcel left by the main doors. Angie ran her thumb over Mr. Fancy's very neat addressed label on the box, and found herself frowning.

' _Flowers mean one thing. Forgiveness._ ' Angie recalled her Ma's words.

Whenever some poor dame got given flowers by their guy, they knew 9 times out of 10, that he'd done no good.

She may not be holding any flowers, but she knew Peggy. She knew Peggy only gave _'suprise'_ gifts when she would have to do something she knew Angie would not like.

The question was, what had Peggy done?

 

Angie settled the large box on the kitchen table, and poured herself a glass of wine that Aletta had sent her home with.

Angie wasn't much of a wine drinker, and she found her mind drifting back to a night shared with Peggy. Her gal had opened a real fancy bottle of red from Howard's stash. The waitress knew her limits, and she should have only stuck to the one glass, but the evening had been so perfect. She figured what harm could another glass do?

As it turned out, one more glass could do a lot. As she found herself lying on the bed clutching her aching tummy, with Peggy's apologetic smile beaming down on her, while her gal ran her fingers through her hair and held her close.

Romance wasn't to be found, as Peggy held Angie's hair back while she wretched. Instead, an act of real love was discovered.

With a sigh, Angie ripped open the flap on the box and peered inside.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Rusty hen." - Is 1940s slang, meaning - 'Unattractive young woman'.  
> "Stupido ragazza!" - Stupid girl.  
> "Scusa."- sorry.


	4. Love come tumbling down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie finds out the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for staying with me on this journey. For poor sweet Angie it's going to be one heck of a bumpy emotional ride. Just to add one thing, trying to explain zero-matter in a brief condensed nutshell was no mean feat, I can tell you. I just hope it doesn't come across as confusing? - A big thank you to Steff for reading this over for me. You're a star! Enjoy... x

** All or Nothing At All. **

The first gift she opened turned out to be a gramophone record. Angie sat and watched the black and silver _'Capitol'_ label spin round and round, as the gentle voice of 'The King Cole Trio' singing _'I love you for sentimental reasons'_ flooded the room. Well, she figured it made a nice change from hearing ' _heartaches_ by Ted Weems' beating through the wireless.

' _Sentimental reasons_ ' had been somewhat a favourite of Peggy's last month. Angie had spied her gal tapping her foot softly or mouthing along with the words numerous times whenever the song came on the radio. The waitress wished to find some comfort in the lyrics, but the song, though sweet, left a bitter taste in Angie's mouth.

Each night she stood in the doorway to Peggy's office. Angie never imagined the feeling of longing could be so consuming. With the faint lingering scent of Peggy's perfume pulling the waitress forward, she let her eyes drift over her gal's personal effects perfectly placed on the desk. With a loud exhale, she danced her fingers along the green coloured leather interior on the chair, before she took a seat. Resting her head down upon the solid oak; she just hoped Peggy would soon return.

-

Over the next few days other ' _surprise_ ' presents followed.

She was given an exquisite dress that must have cost Peggy a pretty penny. A beautiful hair clip. Two hefty poetry books. One focusing on life, the other about love, one poem in particular had caught Angie's attention, as she thumbed through the many pages. Found penned in the margin were the words, ' _for you, my darling_ ' written in Peggy's hand. Angie had the poem memorised by the morning.

The latest gift Peggy sent had Angie blushing, as she held up the silk lingerie with matching silk slip. The actress giggled, as she twirled in front of the full length mirror, with the pink slip held against her. She thought of Peggy's come hither stare and bit her bottom lip.

Could this kind of gift mean that Peggy would be home soon? Would Peggy return to New York unannounced? Surprise her one day this week?

Angie knew she shouldn't entertain these ideas. Her heart couldn't bear the disappointment if Peggy didn't show up. With a shake of her head, she folded up the lingerie and continued to get ready for work.

The diner was unusually quiet for a Wednesday morning. The overcast skies seemed to mirror Angie's miserable mood. With her chin rested against her palm, and her other hand absently wiping the dish cloth over the same spot on the counter, Angie looked like the very essence of the word distracted. She was so deep in thought she hadn't even noticed the arrival of her boss.

"Martinelli, the coffee won't pour itself." The portly man clicked his fingers, as the slender girl stood to attention. "And I'm in need of one. Bring me over a slice of apple pie too will ya?" He gestured to the table before he sat down with a pile of paperwork.

"Sure thing." She nodded, happy for the momentary distraction.

Her boss wasn't so bad. Her first waitressing gig ended up with her former boss wearing a plate of spaghetti bolognese on top of his head, as both of his hands found their way onto her ass. At least this boss kept his paws to himself. His one big flaw was he could never seem to remember anyone's first name. Even though his employees were all made to wear name tags. Angie had learned quickly that being a woman in the work place meant that you got given many names by the customers. So she figured, _'Martinelli'_ wasn't so bad.

It sure beat the hell out of ' _doll face_ '.

"Oh, and Martinelli." He smiled, as she placed down his order. "My office needs a touch of the mop," he instructed, stiring sugar into his cup. "If you can get onto that."

A flash of her pearly whites, and Angie went to retrieve the bucket and bleach from the storage cupboard.

At least she wasn't pouring coffee. Angie was pretty certain that even in her dreams she had a coffee pot in her hands.

  
"Yo Angie."

Almost done with her task, she looked up at the sound of her name to see Betsy, her co-worker poking her head around the office door.

"What does he want now?" The waitress huffed, the mop feeling the force of her aggression as it slopped back and forth.

Betsy grinned, and lowered her tone. "Nothin', but there's a phone call for ya. It sounded like Peggy."

"Pegs?" Angie bounced on her heels, sending the mop clattering to the floor with her enthusiasm.

"Yeah. Just be quick 'bout it." The raven haired girl playfully swatted the dish cloth at her, as Angie passed by.

  
The waitress had no power over the broad smile that filled her whole expression as she skipped to the phone.

"Pegs?" She grinned into the payphone receiver.

"I hope you're not working too hard this morning?" Came the sweet sound from the voice she had missed so very much.

"I got the underwear," Angie blurted out with excitement. Her eyes quickly scanned around the restaurant floor making sure she wasn't overheard.

Peggy gave a light chuckle in response. "Good morning to you too, darling."

The rich tones of Peggy's laughter would carry Angie through the rest of her dull shift.

"How busy are ya over there if you've got time to go shoppin' huh?" Angie meant her remark to be a joke. She'd missed their playful exchanges, and Peggy's sense of humour. So, the girl was surprised by the lack of a quick witted response.

Angie listened to the crackling line a second longer before she uttered. "Ya still there?"

"Yes. Sorry. I thought you needed something nice."

Angie's brow furrowed at the uncertainty in her gal's voice. Peggy very rarely doubted her decisions, so what had she done to warrant a response like this?

"Did you like them my darling?"

With a pull on the black wire cord, Angie tried to push her suspicions aside, and was determined to keep her voice chipper.

"Yeah, and you know I ain't complainin', English," She lowered her tone further. "I just can't wait to wear them for ya. I miss ya."

"I miss you too," came the quick reply before another long pause. "I cannot wait until you're in my arms once again Angie. If you'll still have me?"

Angie couldn't help the small exhale she let slip. What did Peggy exactly mean by that? Her mind was working overtime enough already, she didn't need to add to the ever growing list of questions she had.

  
"You doin' alright over there, English?"

The line once again fell silent.

"Yes, fine." She eventually replied.

"Hey, do I gotta worry back here or you actually gonna tell me what's wrong, because you ain't foolin' me. So, you really doin' OK?"

"There is nothing for you to worry about, darling. It's just been a long day."

"It's only 9am, English, but I know what ya mean." Angie sighed once again. "You'd tell me if there was somethin' up, right?"

Silence.

 

"Peggy?"

"Angie... I ... I have done--"

Peggy began, and Angie held her breath unware of Betsy trying to get her attention with a frantic wave of her hand.

"Martinelli?" Her boss's voice boomed loud over the soft sound of the wireless floating through the restaurant. "I don't pay you to socialize. I pay you to work. Snap to it!"

"Comin'." Angie somehow managed to restrain herself from saying something she would regret. Part of her wanted to tell Peggy to continue. Damn her job, but Angie Martinelli was not a free loader, and she refused to be Peggy's kept woman. She needed this job.

"Pegs... I'm sorry, I gotta go."

It was Peggy's turn to sigh. "Do not let that man push you around Angie."

"I hear ya," Angie told her. "You'll call me soon, yeah?"

"I will. I love you."

Before Angie could reply Peggy had hung up.

The dial tone seem to become louder with each beep, as she remained standing there. This wasn't how she thought their conversation would end.

"Martinelli, what did I tell you?" The red faced man made his way over to her.

"Huh?" She asked, vaguely aware of his presence once she had hung up the phone.

"Table five are waiting on their check." He huffed, tapping his watch face. "You're lucky I don't dock your wages," he threatened trying to catch her eye but the haunted look he found soon had him relenting. "Hey, you.. OK?"

  
For this question she didn't really have an answer. A nod and a smile was all she could muster.

In a daze she went back to work, and for the first time since she'd worked at this job, she hardly noticed the lack of any good tips.

Her body may have been in New York, but her mind was with Peggy in LA.

Just what was going on over there?

 

* * *

 

Two days later and she still didn't have any answers. There had been no more word from her gal, but like clockwork another gift arrived.

This time she was given a teddy bear.

Angie sat and stared into the glass brown eyes of the teddy, as if the stuffed animal knew all the secrets she wanted to know so desperately. Holding the sandy coloured bear close to her chest, she sent up a silent prayer that Peggy wasn't in immediate danger with this mission.

The aspiring actress knew she needed to pull her head back in the game. All the pacing and worrying in the world wouldn't stop Peggy from completing what she had set out to do. If only Angie's stubborn heart would listen to reason. She needed to focus her mind on something productive, find a use for all of this melancholy, and her drama class should have been the perfect place to let go of some of the misery, but it seemed no sanctuary was to be found there either, as all eyes turned to her.

  
"Angie, you're up."

The white haired, willowy figure, dressed head to toe in black addressed her expectantly. Mrs Thorpe was what some would call eccentric. Her methods of teaching were not always straight forward, but she was the best acting coach in town. After just a few short weeks under Mrs Thorpe's guidance, Peggy had commented that she could see a real improvement in Angie's performances. It was just a pity that the casting directors didn't agree.

"Angie?" She clapped her hands, motioning for the young starlet in the making to get to her feet. If only she could remember the piece she'd prepared.

The waitress blinked before she scanned the fellow students seated around her. Is this what was known in the business as, ' _performance anxiety_ '? Angie Martinelli had never been stuck for a single thing to say in her whole life. She could start a conversation on just about any topic, but right now she was drawing a blank. She needed to think and fast, because these classes weren't cheap.

"What have you chosen to perform for us today?" The teacher pressed on. "Angie?"

"Urm?" She stalled, willing her brain to spark up an idea. "Something... from a novel, ' _The Slaves of Solitude_ ' by Patrick Hamilton." Angie continued, remembering the dark burgundy hardback book in her bag.

"A new work of fiction is it not?"

"Yeah. Some English gal is bored of suburban life, starts courtin' this wayward American lieutenant," she rambled, retrieving the book while trying to keep her bookmark in place.

Angie could do this, she could wing it. She was born to do this. Besides, what was one more act to perform, but before she had even opened her mouth to speak, a hand was placed over her book. Angie watched as Mrs Thorpe took a step closer to her. Her wrinkled brow creased further as she scrutinized the young performer before her.

"To act you need to _feel_ the scene, live the scene. A great actor does not just perform, they expand the role and bring life to the very pages in those books. Let your art take over Angie. Let us, your audience feel what you are feeling."

Angie sighed, clutching the book until her knuckles turned white. There were no words to convey what she truly felt. A few simple words wouldn't begin to summarise her current situation, and Angie was afraid that once she let the floodgates open then they would never close.

  
"I--"

"No, dear girl," Mrs Thorpe held onto her shoulders. "I can already sense what your about to share with us isn't the genuine article. I would like you to share something _'real'_ with us. A moment from your past, the first real hardship you witnessed in your young life. We would like to hear about it. Come on class, Angie needs our encouragement."

Angie paused, but found the support she was lacking in the round of applause she had been given. With a deep steadying breath she began.

"I... use go around collecting bottles. Soda, whisky bottles, and you could get a couple of cents for them. I'd use the money to go buy myself a movie ticket. My Ma would have happily given me the money, but she worked so very hard. Papa too, but I couldn't ask them. Living through the great depression meant no one had money... I used to chat with the old guys who were lined up waitin' for the soup kitchen to open. They had hardly nothin' but they were always kind to me--"

"Yes!" The older woman barked out, bringing the tale to an abrupt end. "Real life, _real_ people, use that moment now and perform for us. Live that feeling again, Angie and use it for the character from your book."

So Angie did. She became Miss Roach, accent and all.

Her performance was deemed so dramatic that her fellow students insisted she must celebrate with a drink or two. While the petite girl was slipping on her coat, she felt a warm palm catch hold of her wrist.

"While emotions are needed in our business; do not let them consume you. Do not let it dim the light which shines so brightly in your eyes." The wise old teacher, cupped her cheek gently before she walked away.

Angela tried not to cry.

\--

Three drinks later and Angie left not only the warmth of the bar, but the warmth of the company she was keeping. Fellow thespians, like herself were certainly an energetic bunch, but home was calling and the rain lashing down outside only seemed to be getting worse.

Lonely and soaked to the bone, she made her way home.

"Honey, I'm home." She huffed, dumping down her bag, before switching on the lamp in the empty penthouse.

Soon out of her wet clothes, she relished the comfort that a hot bath provided. With the fire place roaring, Angie settled herself in the front parlour, wrapped in one of Peggy's blouses. If she brought her nose close enough to the soft material then she could still smell the sweet comforting scent of Peggy's perfume. Pouring herself a glass of schnapps, she toasted Peggy's picture.

It was Angie's favourite picture of Peggy. One she took pride in by polishing everyday.

The picture itself was a standard war issue photograph. Peggy looking off into the distance, poised and every inch the soldier, the agent. Immaculate in her uniform. Starch crisp shirt and perfectly placed tie. All housed snuggly underneath her woollen blazer.

Angie let her eyes roam the picture, with a smile.

"I wonder what you're doin' now, Pegs?" Angie muttered, sipping the last of her drink. "I hope you've had a better day than mine." She set down her glass with a loud yawn. "Fightin' all those bad guys?" She sighed, pulling the blanket over herself.

"I miss you," she whispered as her eyes fluttered shut.

 

* * *

 

Angie had taken on so many double shifts at the L&L that even her boss was sick of the sight of her and demanded she take a couple of days off.

Armed with enough ingredients to start up her own bakery, the waitress decided to pour all of her emotions into baking. The kitchen had been engulfed with the delightful fragrances of Peggy's favourite desserts. She was just putting the finishing touches on her lastest dish, when she heard the sound of the front door alarm being switched off. The piping bag she was holding dropped to the counter with a clatter, as her heart began to pound. There were only four people in the world who knew the security code. Herself, Peggy, Jarvis and Howard.

Peggy had berated Howard on the lack of security in the penthouse from the day they had moved in. Under Peggy's strict guidance Howard fitted the place out with the latest Stark technology. Peggy had whispered to Angie one night in bed that she could sleep easier knowing Angie would be safe while she was in the house alone.

Her pulse thrummed rapidly at her neck, as the door clicked shut.

"Angie?"

She heard Howard's voice call out to her moments later.

Angie felt her feet move almost of their own accord as she ran to greet him. "Howard?" She smiled, with a gasp while her eyes searched for Peggy's figure behind him. She bowed her head as she felt a heavy weight across her chest when she realised he was alone.

"Hey now, don't look to disappointed," he smirked knowingly, lifting her chin upwards with his index finger. "Ya could at least give your pal a hug?"

Angie stepped into his open arms, clinging to him more tightly than she had intended. To Angie, Howard had become just like another brother and family was what Angie held most precious.

"Now there's a greeting a guy could get used to," he chuckled, pulling her closer into his chest.

Nudging him playfully, she smiled. "It's good to see ya."

"You too pal. It feels like too long." Howard told her, offering out his arm for her to take.

"So, Howard, what brings you here?" She linked arms as they made their way into the kitchen. "Not that I ain't happy to see ya."

"Pegs told me it was your day off, so here I am."

Angie tried to keep her smile in place but at the mention of Peggy's name it was proving difficult.

"Yep, no commute on the crowded subway for me today."

"What about the Cadillac convertible that I brought you for your birthday?"

"I can't exactly drive that to work, Howard."

And really how could she? The beautiful convertible had been her 23rd birthday present from the big hearted playboy. Angie had never squealed so loud in all of her life when Howard presented her with the keys. She sometimes felt a little guilty that she didn't take it for a spin as often as she should, but since Peggy never really took any time off Angie never had the chance to leave Manhattan, to really see what speed the Cadillac could do.

"I suppose you're right," he shrugged. "But hmm, something smells good." He told her taking a seat at the smaller dining table.

"Just doin' a little bakin'," she shrugged. "Coffee?"

With a nod, Howard helped himself to the freshly baked pastries that were cooling on wire racks. "These taste divine. Pegs is one lucky girl." He praised, as Angie's smile faltered.

"I guess you hoped Peggy might be with me?"

"But she ain't. She's gotta save the world. I know."

If there was a hint of bitterness to her tone it wasn't intentional, but she felt Howard's gaze soften further as he wiped his mouth on a napkin.

Angie didn't need pity, she only needed Peggy.

"You gonna tell me what you're really doin' here Howard?" Angie asked. "Because I'm guessin' Pegs ain't got a clue ya here."

Howard smirked, with a knowing nod as he watched the waitress move around the kitchen. "I may have forgot to mention that part to her," he shrugged. "But I'm here 'cause I need something from my lab for this crazy case, and I couldn't fly over New York without stoppin' by."

"You're workin' with Pegs on this mission?" Angie frowned, pouring a splash of milk into both cups. "I knew Pegs was stayin' at your place, and I figured Mr. Fancy would be helpin' out, but I didn't know you were too."

Not that Angie was surprised Peggy forgot to add that detail, she never spoke of work once she'd crossed the threshold of home.

"Yeah. They couldn't get things done without my expertise," he boasted, tapping his finger to his forehead with a grin. "Not when all this zero-matter cappers is still a cause for concern anyhow." Howard clarified, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Zero-matter?" Angie uttered in confusion, while Howard started to devour another home made treat.

"Yeah. Didn't Peggy tell you? Whitney Frost is riddled with the stuff."

"As in the actress?" Angie looked more puzzled.

"That's the one."

"Wait, isn't what you've told me all confidential SSR stuff?"

"Well, yeah, but you're family. So?" Howard shrugged with a grin.

Angie couldn't help but smile at his impish expression. It felt nice not to be kept in the dark, but she understood Peggy was loyal to the cause.

"You might have to walk me through this one Howard," Angie shook her head. Curiosity aside, the actress was desperate to know one thing. She needed to know how Peggy really was, without her gal's sugar coated version. If this zero-matter was causing Peggy a problem then didn't she have a right to know? She knew Howard would tell her the truth no matter what the outcome. "How is Peggy doin' over there?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly as she handed him his coffee.

"She likes bein' the boss again."

"That figures," Angie smiled to herself. "But is she really doin' OK? I only ask because lately whenever we talk on the phone... huh, that is when she actually calls... I don't know she seems... kinda distant. Like she's hidin' stuff from me, and I don't mean government stuff... she seems different some how."

Whatever Angie expected Howard to say, she never imagined his words would make her world crumble.

Angie always had a knack of reading people, their subtle gestures. So when Howard blanched, double blinked and paused for a very brief moment, she knew something was wrong.

"Peggy loves you."

The waitress felt a chill creep across her body, as if the blood in her veins had turned into ice at his answer.

"I never asked if she loved me," she challenged. "Howard what's goin' on?"

"That's partly why I'm here. Peg ain't been acting like herself." The millionaire abandoned the confection, and set his deep brown eyes firmly on Angie. "I don't know how to put this... I ain't never been one to tell tales outta school, but you're good for her Angie and I know for a fact she needs you in her life," he rambled.

"Howard?!"

Howard clasped his hands together in a prayer like state, casting his eyes to the ceiling before he continued. "Forgive me Pegs, but this is for your own good," he muttered. "She... She kissed Dr. Wilkes. He's a key component to this case, and he's a zero-matter ghost now, but--"

"She kissed a ghost?"

Angie might have laughed at the absurdity of it all, if her brain hadn't completely shut down.

"He wasn't when they kissed. I'm sorry Angie. I don't know what's gotten into her, cause this ain't Peg. I don't know what's goin' on in that head of hers."

If Howard had continued speaking, Angie had not heard him. She stared past him, her fists clenched tightly together. Her mind whirled, she couldn't keep up with all of this new information. Not when she was stuck on the one important fact, Peggy had cheated.

Peggy had been unfaithful.

"Angie?" Howard said, squeezing her shoulder gently bringing her out of her daze.

"Are they havin' an affair?" She demanded.

"What? No. It was only a kiss."

"You better start explain' to me what the hell is goin' on over there!"

 

The waitress was stunned into silence as she learned that a rift in the earth had caused zero-matters existence. The black blob-like substance had driven actress and secret scientist Whitney Frost into power hungry madness.

"It's dangerous stuff, Ange," Howard explained. "It turns out that the guys over at Roxxon refinery ain't so upstandin'. They've been running all kinda crazy experiments, that is until Peggy spoiled all their fun." He sipped his coffee. "Wilkes was the only one willing to help us out, and boy did we need his help. He helped Peg by trying to steal zero-matter from the lab, from Whitney and then it kinda exploded. He took most of the impact rendering him to lose his physical form. He's practically like a ghost. You know what Pegs is like, she felt guilty that he got hurt on her watch. She wants to stop Whitney and put things right."

With Angie still silent, Howard pressed on.

"You know it was just the adrenaline of the mission, close combat. She lost control of her senses for a moment. Everybody does it, and I'm sad to say even Peggy," he sighed, grabbing Angie's hand softly. "She loves you Angie. She's made a stupid mistake, but I've never seen Peggy more happier than when she's with you, and I know you need her too. I'm not trying to hurt you, Angie or Peggy, believe me but you're family and family has to stick together, and I fear Peggy might do somethin' stupid with the guilt she's feeling. She really hasn't been herself, and I know she needs you Angie."

' _Needs me_?' Angie repeated to herself, she was struggling to order her thoughts. She was struggling to breathe as she sat there lost.

"I don't think I've ever known you to be this quiet. Please say something Angie." Howard sighed gently. "I know Peggy would kick my ass for telling you, but I hope she'll know I did it for the both of you."

Angie turned quickly to face him. "I don't want Peggy knowin' that I know 'bout... that... that science guy."

"But why?" He asked astonished. "The whole reason I am here is to bring you to LA with me. You'll fix Peg up."

"No. Me bein' there ain't gonna help. It will only make things worse. If Whitney Frost is as bad as you say, then I ain't gonna cloud Peggy's mind when she has an important job to do."

It didn't matter to Angie how much she had to swallow her pride. It didn't matter how much she was hurting, she had to put Peggy first. Peggy still had a mission to complete, people to save and Angie would never forgive herself if Peggy was harmed because of something she did in anger. She would confront Peggy when her gal returned home.

"Geeze, Ange... You're a much better person than I'll ever be pal," he sighed, pulling her tightly into a hug. "And don't you worry about this zero-matter. Me, Pegs and Jarvis have got it all under control. We'll soon have this sorted."

"Thanks for lettin' me know." Angie mumbled dazed. She felt stupid for uttering something so foolish, but she was at a loss for anything else.

"Why don't you come with me?" Howard suggested, breaking apart their embrace. "I can fly you anywhere you wanna go. You could relax on the beaches of Miami. I won't tell Peg."

Angie shook her head. "No thanks, Howard. I got stuff to take care of here."

She needed to re-evaluate everything.


	5. Peggy's clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie's emotions get the best of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you for sticking with me on this angsty journey. Poor Angie sure could do with a hug, but please do not fear. Peggy will be home soon. - I must say, another thank you to Steff, for proof reading this chapter. Enjoy... x

**All or Nothing at All.**

****

Sometimes when faced with a potentially life changing situation; you never truly know how you might react. You could tell yourself, ' _Oh, I would do this or I would say that_ ' but when the worst happens it can leave you blindsided. It can leave you hollow; an empty shell and that was just how Angie felt right now. Empty.

  
The blue eyed girl somehow found herself on the rooftop terrace. Her eyes locked on the sunset in front of her. Streams of orange light burst out from behind the rolling grey clouds as she sat dejectedly by herself. With a tap on the bottom of the ' _Luckies_ ' packet, Angie placed the fourth cigarette she had smoked in a row to her lips. Once the match had been struck, she observed the flame until it danced closely to the edge of her fingers. She quickly threw the burnt out nub to the ground, and inhaled a lung full of surprisingly comforting smoke.

Angie usually loathed cigarettes. She hadn't smoked since her teenage years, but she needed something tangible to steady her nerves. The tremor in her hands had not left her since Howard's reluctant departure. Angie had taken the packet of Lucky Strikes from Peggy's secret stash she kept in her desk. Peggy only smoked on the rare occasion but her gal still liked to keep a pack close.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she had sat out there under the pale glow of moonlight, lost in her own thoughts. However the night air brought with it a cold chill that forced her to retreat indoors.

With a heavy heart she curled up on one of the many unused guest beds the penthouse had to offer, and cried herself to sleep.

\--

Angie stirred from the deep sleep she had been in. Her body twisted away from the beam of sunlight that shone through the window, highlighting every detail of her soft beautiful features.

"Hmm... close the drapes, Pegs," she mumbled into her pillow. Her mind was still blissfully sleep addled, dazed until consciousness came washing over her. Reality crashed over her harder than breakers on the shore. The woebegone girl clenched a hand to her stomach as a heart broken sob ripped its way from the back of her throat.

  
' _It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss_.'

 

She found herself repeating those words, as her trembling limbs sought refuge in the warmth of the water her morning bath provided. She tried to understand. She tried to reason with herself. She tried to put herself in Peggy's shoes, but nothing made sense. How could any explanation given justify the betrayal of her trust? One reckless action had changed everything. One meaningless kiss had her teetering on the edge, her emotions threatening to send her spiraling into the depths of despair.

Angie felt helpless. She didn't know how to move forward. Peggy was her whole world.

The waitress pulled her knees up to her chest and felt her tears rolling down her cheeks, watching them as they splashed into the water.

What would she do now?

  
The rest of her day was spent in a cloud of cigarette smoke along with endless cups of black coffee. The sandwich she had made remained untouched, while she stared at Peggy's latest gift. The agent had sent a bottle of perfume, along with a simple note, reading; ' _Don't forget me. x x_ '. Peggy had worn the same brand ever since Angie had known her. It was a scent the grief-stricken girl always took comfort in. Now, as her long slender fingers gripped the glass bottle, she felt her second stab of anger.

' _How could she do this to me?_ '

\--

Angie was known for having limitless energy. The girl could pull a double shift on aching feet and still give you a million watt smile, but as she glanced at her reflection in the bathroom mirror she'd never seen herself look so drained. Deciding to have an early night, she sank down rather heavily into the mattress, her body succumbing to the feeling of fatigue.

Her eyes were on the verge of closing, when they snapped open at the shrill sound of the telephone ringing beside her. She knew there was only one person it could be.

Angie felt her breath become laboured as she stared at the receiver, and hesitated as her fingers reached out for it. She wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed while she deliberated if she should answer, but the caller was persistent and Angie surrendered against her better judgement and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Hello darling," Peggy greeted, her voice hoarse. "You had me worried for a moment there, when you didn't answer right away. You weren't asleep were you? It is only eight o'clock Grandma?" She attempted levity, but at the lack of response her tone took on a harder edge. "Darling?... Angie?"

The waitress felt powerless; conflicted. She could shout and demand answers but she had made herself a promise. A promise to put Peggy's safety first while she completed this mission. She considered how easy it would be to go back on her word. How simple it could be to break her own promise and confront Peggy, but she knew deep down that was her anger talking, her vengeful pride. Peggy might be able to break the bonds they had built up, but Angie would not. Angie was a woman of honor, and she refused to give in to the temptation to put her own needs first. Her integrity was all she had left.  
  
"Hi." Was all she could manage.

"There you are," Peggy said. "I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice, darling."

Angie couldn't help but notice that Peggy's usual velvet tones sounded strained. She had never heard Peggy sound so weary. The only other time she could recall was when her gal had been badly injured during a skirmish while the SSR was on the hunt to find Dottie Underwood.

The actress was relieved that all of Peggy's hard work and long hours had paid off, and that ' _Iowa_ ' was now safely behind bars, where that crazy dame belonged.

Could Peggy be wounded now? The actress could already feel herself begin to falter. She could already feel the overwhelming need to make sure Peggy was all right. With a deep breath, she bit her lip in the hopes of keeping her concerns at bay.

"I have been thinking about you all day," Peggy continued. "I have been imagining your smile, your arms wrapped tightly around me. Your body up against mine."

Angie felt her jaw clench at the sentiment. Peggy's words didn't just speak of simple desire, or mere lust from being apart. Her tone spoke of a deeper need. It spoke of love, vulnerability.

The girl didn't know she could feel anymore heart ache, but she was wrong.

  
"Did you get your present today?"

"Hmm."

"Good. I'm still wearing your robe, but unfortunately I can no longer smell your perfume, darling," Peggy said. "Have you been keeping warm? Because Mr Jarvis said the weather in New York has been dreadful. The sunshine of Los Angeles is all very well and good, but you can't beat a little rain fall," Peggy lightly chuckled, drawing in a deep breath.

There was a long pause. Angie knew Peggy was waiting for her to respond, but try as she might the words just wouldn't come.

"Darling?" Peggy questioned. "Are you all right? You've hardly spoken a word, and we both know you can talk the hind legs off a donkey."

Angie continued to listen. She could hear the faint sound of rustling bed sheets and the sound of Peggy exhaling. Angie felt a sigh of her own ready to escape. Her usual reply would have been sass about Peggy's use of such an English expression, but nothing about this situation was remotely funny.

Instead all she could muster was a question she'd wanted to know the second Peggy walked out of the door for LA.

"When are you coming home?"

This was the first time Angie had found the strength to ask Peggy this question, and she hardly recognised the sound of her own voice. The usual infectious light heartness had been replaced with an emotionless, flat meek mumble.

"Soon my darling," Peggy sighed, as her breathing rapidly turned more shallow, and Angie was certain she heard her wince. "I miss you too."

Then Angie heard it again. She heard Peggy take a deep unsteady breath. Something must be wrong, and Angie wanted to know.

"Are you hurt?"

It was Peggy's turn to fall silent.

Angie repeated the question. "Are you?"

"I... I'm fine."

Angie quickly replied, her tone clipped. "You hesitated."

"Hesitated?" Peggy was clearly trying to buy herself some time. Angie could always read her gal like a book.

"It's a simple enough question, Pegs?" She sighed. "Are ya hurt?"

Another pause.

 

"Angie?" Peggy implored.

"So, ya not gonna tell me?"

"It isn't that, darling."

"It sure feels like it," Angie snapped, with a deep exhale of her own. "Whatcha gonna do Peggy? Are ya actually gonna tell your supposed gal about it or are ya gonna lie to me?" ' _Again_ '. The last word she held back.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Ya know what, Pegs... just forget about it. I'm kinda tired... So, yeah?"

"Angie please," Peggy begged. "I just don't want you to worry."

"Sure. Goodnight Peggy. Take care of ya yourself."

"Darling please--"

With that Angie hung up. She was furious. Peggy's seeming dismissiveness had ignited a fire within her.

Angie was wide awake now.

"How dare you!" The actress pointed to Peggy's picture still beside her bed. "Ya know your cavalier attitude stinks Peggy." She barked out, throwing the blankets back. The anger she felt suddenly overrode the sadness, as she paced back and forth mumbling to herself. She was seething.

"Is it too much to ask for the truth once in a while?" Angie raged, stomping over to the wardrobe. "Why should I cry myself to sleep for another night?" She pulled a dress sharply from the rail, "It's clear that you don't give a damn, Peggy! And as ya said, it's only eight o'clock, and a gal needs to let her hair down, right?" The girl addressed the empty room, but stopped when she noticed the dress she was holding. It was a dress that Peggy always favoured, whenever Angie had worn it. Brushing the fabric with her thumb, Angie shook her head, her resolve firm, she could do this. Tonight she would not wallow. Tonight she would be around friends.

"You can do this. You can do this." She told herself.

After giving herself a firm pep-talk, Angie left the penthouse and stepped into the awaiting cab. She couldn't stand the thought of another night alone.

  
Angie soon found herself in the familiar comforts of the discreet bar known as ' _Scarlett's_ '. Angie's was a face well known on the scene, making firm friends with the owner and the bar's regular patrons, but admittedly, the waitress had been neglecting her social circle since Peggy had become her lover. Her like-minded pals had welcomed Peggy with open arms, on the rare occasion when Angie had persuaded Pegs to come along, but Peggy preferred any precious time she had spare to be spent alone with Angie, and a room full of lovely ladies hanging off Angie's every word wasn't always Peggy's idea of fun.

How Angie longed for Peggy to be here now.

She was pulled from her inner musings, by the sound of a low throaty voice.

"Well, if it ain't Martinelli," the broad shouldered woman behind the bar stepped closer. "Yo Ange, ain't seen ya much in here lately," She grasped Angie's hand with a firm friendly squeeze. "It's good to see ya."

"Hey Scarlett," Angie tried to flash her a wide smile, but failed. "It's good to see ya too."

"Where's Peggy?"

"Hell if I know." She shrugged, instantly regretting the slight, as she knocked back the Martini she had been nursing in one gulp.

Scarlett raised her eye brow. "Why don't I pour ya another, and you my pretty gal can tell me all about it."

"I guess another wouldn't hurt."

Scarlett winked. "Atta-girl."

Angie sat in silence while she watched her dear friend prepare her second drink of the evening. She was beginning to wonder if this was a mistake. Maybe she should have stayed home. She couldn't be much company with the bad mood she was wearing. Still, hearing the echoes of laughter from the crowd was better than the sound of her own tears.

"As you're still quiet, Martinelli," Scarlett eyed her suspiciously, "I know something must be up." She placed the glass down in front of the frowning girl. "Where is Peggy really?"

"Am I really that obvious?"

"Kinda, pal. Especially when it comes to your gal. We all know how crazy you are about her," the bar owner smiled. "I only ask where she is because you two have been inseparable lately. So, that begs the question, where is your gorgeous English broad?"

Angie knew her options on this answer were limited. A part of her wished to be able to speak freely, explain the situation, but instead she lied.

"She's outta town. Visting some old Army pals." Angie consoled herself with the thought that at least it wasn't a complete fabrication.

"And you're pining for her, I take it?" The brunette inquired. "Young love huh."

Angie sipped her drink. "We... We had a sorta fight... Kinda, I mean not so much of a fight, rather me hangin' the phone up on her."

"What, did Peggy not give ya enough kissy noises or somethin'?"

"Gee, thanks. There was me thinkin' my good pal might actually lend me her ear."

Scarlett smirked. "Sorry, but I've seen the both of ya, here at the bar with my own eyes and you and Peggy are rock solid. That dame couldn't keep her peepers off ya for a second. So, I'm certain whatever she might have done ain't gonna be so bad."

The waitress huffed, before bringing the glass to her lips for a long sip. Maybe another perspective on this whole mess was just what she needed. Maybe another drink might be nice too. With another deep breath, she opened her mouth to speak but the weight of the words left her silent.

"Unless there is something you ain't telling me?" Scarlett's tone became softer as she watched Angie closely.

Angie considered her words before she replied. "I don't know? Pegs is a private person, I ain't sure if she'd like me spillin' all our problems to ya."

"Ange, you know what ya tell me, stays with me. I'm practically like a vault, it's a bar keeper's prerogative ain't it? Hearing woes?" She joked.

"How long have you and Joyce been going steady now?"

Scarlett thought for a moment, a wide smile spreading across her face. "Geeze? Going on three years, why?"

"Has she... ever gone cold suddenly, but says she's fine?"

"You've met Joyce. When she's mad, she'll let me know," Scarlett laughed. "Why? Has Peggy gone cold?"

Angie sighed. "Not exactly... but kinda. Anyway she thinks by not tellin' me what's wrong that she's protectin' me, which is stupid."

With another sip of her drink, she thought about telling Scarlett of Dr Wilkes, but she snapped her mouth shut. How could she admit Peggy's betrayal to anyone else, when she couldn't even admit it to herself?

Her breath hitched at the thought of having to verbalize her pain. She felt her index finger begin to tremble around the stem of the Martini glass. She could really use a cigarette right now to help steady her nerves, and scolded herself for not packing them in her bag before she left the penthouse.

"You got a smoke?" Angie asked, worrying at her thumb nail.

The words had barely left her mouth, when the person beside her presented her with a gold cigarette case. "Anything for you beautiful."

The actress didn't need to turn her head to recognise the sultry tone. It belonged to Dolores, another regular at the bar. Dolores was a real high stepper. A smooth talker who looked like she had stepped out of the pages of Vogue magazine. Angie couldn't deny that Dolores was a real eye-catcher, and that wasn't because the blonde was wearing a blue dress designed to grab attention.

The tall lean beauty was the most eligible gal in the whole place, and had made it clear on several occasions that she had her sights set on the aspiring actress. Any gal would be lucky to be on Dolores's arm, but that girl wasn't Angie.

In spite of everything, her heart belonged to Peggy and probably always would.

  
Angie flicked her gaze to the blonde beside her, muttering a ' _thanks_ ' as she collected the offered cigarette. Before she even had chance to blink a bright flickering golden flame touched the end of the cigarette.

"Since when do you smoke, Ange?" Scarlett asked, mixing drinks for another set of ladies at the bar.

The actress frowned. "Can't a girl have a little smoke once in a while?"

"OK, OK, don't get sore," her friend backed down. "I just thought you said smoking was bad for an up and coming Broadway singer?"

Angie shrugged her reply.

"What would Pegs say about you smokin'?" The brunette frowned. "Especially a girl with your talent."

"Well, I absolutely agree with Angie," Dolores purred, her eyes drinking in Angie's form greedily. "And since I see no sign of your guard dog, then how will she even know?" The striking girl smirked. "And since she isn't here, might I tempt you into sharing the dance floor with me?" She batted her long lashes, with a smirk, "A girl gets lonely all by herself."

"You got plently of suitors, Dee," Scarlett scoffed.

"None worth my time."

  
Angie sighed, as she let them continue their exchange. A part of her was relieved by Dolores's presence. It gave her an excuse not to pour out her heart any further. She could fool herself by pretending that everthing was fine, at least for a couple of hours anyway.

"So will you dance with me?" The blonde suddenly turned to her.

"I ain't really in the mood for dancin'," Angie told her. "Sorry, Dee," she drank a large gulp of her drink and could already begin to feel the effects of the second Martini, having had very little to eat over the last few days. She could feel her body begin to tingle with the warm flood of alcohol.

"Hmm?" She seemed to consider her next move, and not one to be easily deterred, Dolores's grin only got wider. "Perhaps I could buy you another drink?" She scooted up closer. "Surely you don't have a problem with that sugar?"

The waitress nodded. "Thank you. That I can agree to."

"You heard the lady, Scarlett," Dolores grinned. "Another round of Martini's please."

  
Once the glass was emptied on her third dry Martini, Angie's mood had improved. She had the whole of the bar in raptures with anecdote after amusing anecdote. The fourth cocktail however proved to be her downfall. She quickly turned from the funny drunk to a babbling fool, and her audience began to trickle away until only Dolores remained.

  
"T-this song is...is killer-diller." The drunken girl exclaimed, turning sharply on the stool to see the group of musicians on the small stage, causing her to lose her balance.

"Steady there, sugar." Dolores grabbed her waist just in time before she took a tumble. "No more cocktails for you," she smiled.

Angie huffed. "OK, Ma. Whatever ya say, and I thought you w-wanted a dance?"

"I did, but ideally when we could both enjoy it, " Dolores giggled, bibbing Angie's nose with her finger. "You my girl are drunk."

"I ain't drunk." Angie let out a puff of air, swaying on her feet.

The blonde patted her arm. "I think it's time you called your guard dog to come take you home."

"Hey! I let that remark slide o-once, Dee, but I won't if ya say it again," she slurred. "Ya hear me?"

Dolores soothed. "Relax, beautiful. No one wants to be around the angry drunk. Despite how tempting they may be. Now, shall we call Peggy?"

"S-she ain't even there, she's outta t-town." Angie hiccuped, as she slouched against the blonde's shoulder. "I miss her Dee, but hey Peggy's one hell of a gal, ain't she?" Angie rambled. "She's got these strong arms, ya know? Her eyes, boy! They're somethin' else," she smirked, reaching across the bar to bring her glass to her lips, and frowned when she realised it was already empty.

The blonde raised her eyebrow, with a slight smirk. "Interesting, but that doesn't change the fact that you need to go home sugar."

"Home?" Angie snapped, trying to order her sudden muddled thoughts. "I don't wanna go home. Not without Peggy."

At the sound of raised voices, Scarlett came over to join them. "I leave you alone for five minutes." She laughed, helping Dolores to prop the drunken waitress up.

"I don't w-wanna go. I want Peggy." Angie demanded.

"I know you do, hon, but we still need to get ya home," Scarlett told her. "Come on, Angie. Work with me here."

Angie could feel the room begin to spin, as she stared hard at her friends. Maybe going home was a good idea. If only she could move her feet.

"Night, night sugar. Until next time."

She heard being whispered in her ear, as she felt Dolores kiss her cheek.

Angie could suddenly feel the room getting darker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1940s slang words.  
> Killer-diller - Good stuff.


	6. Fool me twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things only get worse for the big-hearted waitress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone taking the time to read this story. It really means a lot to me. - The angst is going to continue for poor sweet Angie (sorry), and the road is going to get more bumpy before its gets better. - Thank you Steff, for all of your help with the proof-reading. Enjoy..

**All or Nothing at All.**

_'Darling?'_

_'Darling? Open your eyes.'_

Even deep in her dreams, Angie is grounded in reality. She knew this couldn't be real. Peggy wouldn't have come home without completing her mission. Still, the waitress would hold onto any version of her gal that she could get.

 _'When did ya get back?'_ Angie asked. Peggy now stood before her, brown eyes shining. She gently placed a soft warm palm against her cheek.  
  
_'Shh, none of that matters.'_

_'You've hurt me Peggy.'_

_'I have hurt us both.'_

_'Why? Why did you do it to me, Pegs?'_

Peggy's only reponse was a soft kiss.

Guess even in her dreams, she still didn't have a real understanding of this question, but just like all good things, her dream came to an end too soon.

 

"W-what?" Angie stirred, suddenly aware of the smell of breakfast, and more importantly freshly brewed coffee.

It took her a moment to think. Her reactions were slow, as she opened her eyes with a bleary blink. Letting a groan pass her lips, she reminded herself for future reference, not to drink so much that it results in her passing out on the sofa. It made for an uncomfortable night's sleep. Her mouth tasted like the bottom of a sand pit. Angie was never much of a drinker but at least it dulled the ache of Peggy's betrayal for a couple of hazy hours. She froze at the sound of a familiar voice; Scarlett's.

"Has sleepin' beauty decided to finally wake up?"

The actress quickly glanced around the room, taking note of her surroundings. She wasn't at home.

_What have I done?_

  
A thousand thoughts began to rage war in her mind, each one battling to be heard as she looked down, relieved to find herself still wearing last night's dress.

 _Thank God_. She hadn't done anything stupid. Aside from maybe embrassing herself. That she could live with.

 

"Bet ya could use this?" Scarlett handed her a cup of coffee.

"Thanks." Angie couldn't even meet her friend's eye, as she tentatively took the small cup from her.

Scarlett smirked. "You don't remember what happened after you nearly passed out last night do ya?"

"No," the actress admitted, happy to feel the hot liquid against the back of her dry throat.

"You could hardly stand on your own two feet after four Martini's," Scarlett chuckled, crossing back over to the kitchen. "Lightweight." She laughed harder before turning her attention back onto the sizzling frying pan. "I tried to take you back to your fancy penthouse, but someone forgot the combination to that weird electronic lock. So, I had to bring you home with me."

Angie sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know if I should be sayin' sorry or thank you? Probably both."

"Think nothing of it," the brunette smiled. "Though I don't know what's wrong with just a normal brass lock."

Angie remained silent but returned the smile. She needed a minute to get used to the pounding in her head. Taking a deep breath, she was overpowered by the smell of food. Or more precisely bacon, and she wasn't sure if the smell was an enticing one or not.

"You ain't gonna share the contents of your stomach with me are ya?" Scarlett grinned. "Because if you are, the bathroom is that way. Joyce has already kindly given you her bacon rashers. She figured you'd need it after the state you were in, but she ain't gonna be all smiles if you make a mess on her favourite sofa cushions. Capeesh?"

This Angie had to laugh at.

"No. I think I just need another coffee, but please tell Joyce thank you. I hope I didn't intrude too much on you both last night?"

"She was just concerned about you Ange."

When Angie did not reply, the brunette continued. "Come on, kiddo. Eat your breakfast before it goes cold," she waved her over to the small table. "I already told ya it's bacon and I ain't wastin' the food ration." She winked.

With a sheepish grin, Angie kissed the top of her friend's head in gratitude before she took her seat. "Thank you."

"Angie, we're pals. You don't gotta keep sayin' _thank you_ ," Scarlett told her. "You could, however tell me what's botherin' you?" She asked, sipping her coffee. "You've been whimperin' something about Peggy all morning."

"I was dreaming."

The brunette nodded. "That much I could guess. You ain't still sore about hanging up on her are ya?" She asked, taking a bite of her breakfast. "Because I wager that Peggy is most likely just as upset as you are. Ange, life is much too short to be wastin' time over something so stupid. You adore Peggy, and that crazy English cat adores ya right back. Concentrate on what's really important. Each other."

 

_Could it really be that easy?_

  
"You really are a pal, Scarlett."

 

The confused girl considered her friend's words carefully.

She was right, wasn't she? Hadn't the war cost everyone enough already? She could forgive Peggy for one lapse in judgement couldn't she?

One meaningless kiss?

Surely Peggy deserved forgiveness and needed it too? Maybe then Angie's heart could start to heal.

\--

Angie returned home a few hours later, and the corner of her mouth turned up slightly at the sight of a large rose bouquet. Her first thought, as she collected the extravagant bundle, was Howard. The playboy had sent her a bouquet no sooner than he had left the penthouse a few days ago. The guilt over his confession had been weighing on his mind, but when she read the card nestled between the stems she was surprised to find a message from Peggy.

_'You know I can't stand it when we quarrel. I miss you. x x'_

Angie thought back to the words _dream_ Peggy had uttered; ' _None of that matters_.' Maybe Angie could forget about her stinging pride and simply forgive Peggy for her foolish mistake. Was a stupid kiss really worth losing Peggy over? She needed to move forward, didn't she?

The starlet carefully picked over these thoughts in her mind.

_Forgiveness._

She could offer Peggy that couldn't she?

  
With a sigh, she ran her fingers through her honey-coloured hair, and toyed with the idea of reaching for her packet of cigarettes. The sound of the ringing phone stopped her in her tracks.

"Hello?" Angie greeted, hoping it wasn't her mother, wanting to know why her ' _little Angelica_ ' hadn't called her in a few days.

Instead, all the air left her lungs when the sound of Peggy's voice rang in her ears. The hopeful starlet hadn't expected to speak with her gal this quickly.

"Hello darling."

"Hi."

The awkard silence seem to linger until Peggy spoke again.

"Did you get my flowers?"

Angie felt her pulse quicken. Peggy's voice sounded so small. Almost fragile. The actress wasn't sure if she could handle this much distance between them, and she didn't mean the many miles that seprated them. Maybe forgiveness was possible after all.

"They're beautiful, English. Thank you."

Peggy let out a small sigh of relief, so quiet Angie might have missed it if she hadn't have had her ear pressed so tightly to the phone.

"You're welcome," Peggy replied. "I tried calling you several times last night after you... Were you asleep? Or... were you simply avoiding my calls?"

Angie glanced at the flowers, pausing for a second before gathering her strength for her next words. "I hate that we ain't talking Pegs."

"I do believe we are partaking in a conversation right now," Peggy sassed, her tone gentle.

God, how Angie had _missed_ this.

 

"Very funny, English, but I'm actually tryin' to be serious here," the waitress forced out a chuckle. "Who would have guessed I could be serious huh?"

"Angie?" The agent gave a soft warning. One that was appreciated. Peggy did always hate it whenever Angie would put herself down.

"I know that nobody's perfect. Not in this life. I know I ain't, but--"

"You are to me."

Angie felt warmth rush through her over Peggy's words. She could do this. She could move on, and put the past to rest.

"Thanks, English. That sure is nice to hear," Angie told her and meant it. "I know you work so hard Pegs, and I get that. I understand that your job is important," Angie exhaled, each word tumbling over the last, eager to be heard, as she continued. "It's tough. Mistakes happen and I figure if the war has taught us anything then we have to hold onto happiness when we find it, and put the past behind us. However much it hurts, right? Concentrate on what's really important. Just like Scarlett said--"

Angie found herself being interrupted. Peggy's genteel voice turned as hard as steel. As if every syllable in her mouth was something to be spat out quickly. The waitress couldn't help but flinch.

"Scarlett?" Peggy snapped.

"Yeah. I--"

Peggy spoke over her once again. "Well, I guess that explains why you failed to answer any of my calls last night after you hung up on me. You spent the evening in her bar didn't you?"

The girl was taken aback. At a complete loss at how things had turned so sour so quickly. Still, Angie tried to keep her tone neutral. "Everythin' goin' OK over there?" She asked. There must be another reason why Peggy lost her cool so suddenly like this.

"What? Aside from the fact that my lover made me worry unnecessarily. While she was out having a whale of a time!" Peggy ranted. "It isn't like I have anything else to worry about is it?" Her voice dripped sarcasm.

Angie was stunned. Peggy's cold attitude was in no way deserved. If her gal was having a rough couple of days, why not speak to her about it? Taking her frustrations out on her was not helping the already strained situation. Angie refused to be her verbal punch bag for no good reason.

"Woah. I think you'd better hold your horses."

"So, you weren't at Scarlett's bar?"

"I was as a matter of fact," Angie said, with just as much heat in her words. "I had a few drinks with my good pal. You got a problem with that?"

Peggy had some nerve to question her intentions after her encounter with Dr. Wilkes. This attitude was testing the waitress's patience.

"That all depends on who else was with you."

"Dolores was there. If that's what your askin'?" Angie knew it was petty, but that didn't stop a sliver of satisfaction running through her at the thought of Peggy's jealousy.

 

How did she like it?

Her gal could experience what she had been going through. Tit for tat was fair game right?

 

Peggy sighed. "I see."

"What? You don't trust me or somethin'?" She questioned. "That's rich coming from you, ain't it?"

At the sound of Peggy's sharp intake of breath, they both fell silent. A habit that they had fallen into since the agent had been in LA. This pointless backbiting had to stop.

"Darling? I..." Peggy whispered.

"You could try talkin' to me ya know. Like you used to."

"Oh how I wish I could."

"What are we doin' Peggy?" Angie asked, her voice shaky with unshed tears. "This ain't us. Squabblin' like kids."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah? We keep exchanging a lot of those lately."

Peggy inhaled. "You deserve better, darling. Better than me. Better than what I have done."

Angie felt her shoulders tense. Would Peggy confess to the kiss? Could Angie bear to even hear it?

 

"It's just this mission. Once I return home we can... we can just be... _us_ again."

That was all Angie truly wanted.

"Ya mean that?"

"I do and if there is something you need to tell me?"

The question seemed to hang there, while Angie blinked away her tears. Her grip on the reciever tightened as her anger once again made itself known.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Before Peggy could reply, the actress heard voices in the background. She was pretty sure she could hear Mr. Fancy's mumbled whispers.

"Darling, I'm sorry. I have to go. We'll talk about this later."

"Later? No, Peggy. You can't just ask me somethin' like that and then leave it like this? Ya can't leave _us_ like this."

"I'm sorry. Please... You must understand this _is_ important. I'm so so sorry I have to go."

"More important than me?"

Angie's last question had not been heard. Peggy had already hung up the phone.

 

* * *

 

  
Radio silence.

  
Peggy had not called and no surprise gifts had arrived for four whole days.

Angie only hoped she wasn't hurt. Anger, she could deal with. Peggy in hospital she could not.

At least she hadn't been crying herself to sleep. She had resolved some of her inner pain and decided her relationship was worth saving. It was worth fighting for. They had both been through too much to throw it away. Now all she wanted was to speak to Peggy and for their lives to return to normal.

She just needed Peggy to call.

 

"Hey? Are you listening to me? I said do you want any of this popcorn?" Aletta asked, seated beside her.

And with that the waitress was pulled back to reality. To the room full of strangers settling down around her to watch Hollywood's latest feature. Angie had agreed to her sister-in-law's request for a night at the flicks. She figured she needed a distraction, but if an evening watching Lauren Bacall in her new movie, ' _Dark Passage_ ' couldn't help, nothing would.

"You've been actin' odd all day Angie," Aletta told her, chewing a mouth full of popcorn.

Angie shrugged. "I'm fine."

"If you say so," Aletta replied, offering her the movie snack. "But you've hardly said a word, and you ain't said nothing about Teresa's news."

Angie paused. Her stomach coiled itself into an unpleasant knot. Teresa? It couldn't be. Not _her_ Teresa.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"I knew you weren't listening."

Angie shook her head. "Are ya talkin' about Teresa Cardini?"

"Yeah, well Teresa De Luca now."

She hadn't heard that name in years. Was life that cruel that she had to hear it now? That being said it didn't stop her feeling like she was sixteen all over again, as she grabbed the arm rest of the seat to ground herself back in the present. To the here and now.

"Is she OK?"

Aletta smirked. "Oh, you wanna know the gossip now?" The brunette gave the waitress a pointed glance, but continued. "Well, I don't know if Mama told ya, but she's finally had the baby. A little girl. She's called her Angela."

"I... I didn't know." Angie frowned, tugging at the collar on her dress that felt fine a few seconds ago. Now it seemed stifling. Constricting. Was it only Angie who suddenly felt the need for more air? "I didn't even know she got hitched."

"Didn't Mama tell you?"

Angie sighed. "Nope."

"Fabiano told me that you two used to be pals when you were kids."

Angie found a small amount of comfort in the smile housed in Aletta's eyes at the mention of her brother's name. Two years of marriage and their love only seemed to grow stronger. Her mind through the haze returned to Peggy. Peggy's soft smile and warm embrace.

_When had things gone so wrong?_

  
"We were. Once upon a long ago."

Aletta smiled. "It's kinda nice that she still remembers you."

With a nod, Angie returned her focus on the screen. Her mind was spinning. She wasn't sure her heart could handle anymore heartache.

  
\--

Sometimes the past was better left where it was. What good would it do to pick at a wound that had healed years ago. What purpose would it truly serve? Memory lane wasn't a road the waitress wanted to walk down. Angie knew this, but that didn't stop her having a moment of self indulgence. A moment to remember what Teresa had meant to her once and to toast her former lover's happiness.

The actress sighed wistfully, a glass of Schnapps in hand and a photo held lightly in the other. A faded image of two smiling teens. Ignorant to the harsh reality of what their love could bring.

She couldn't recall the last time she had taken the photo from its hiding place. But staring at the photograph now, she felt her uncertainty about Teresa's situation melt into genuine joy. A sense of closure she hadn't fully realised she needed.

With a sip of her drink, she smiled to herself. She felt lucky. She thought about the path her life might have taken if she had remained in Brooklyn. Would she have been talked into marrying a man she could never truly love? The waitress shivered at the notion and had never been more thankful for her courage. And more importantly Peggy.

No relationship was ever completely perfect. Angie may have been a dreamer, but she wasn't that naive. Love needed work. Love needed give and take. Love needed forgiveness. A word Angie had never contemplated so much in all of her young life.

Life could be strange, but one thing was clear to her. Had been clear from the moment she first laid eyes on the English agent; Peggy was her everything. There wasn't a single thing she would not do for her gal. Together, they would work it out. Together, they could survive this.

 

_It'll be alright, as long as I have Pegs._

 

The sound of the phone jolted her out of her seeming trance. The girl felt an odd sense of deja vu as she went to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Angie?"

  
Angie felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She'd never been more relieved to hear her gal's voice. She was so caught up in the excitement she failed to notice Peggy's haunted tone, as she steamed ahead.

"Peggy? You really have no idea how much I needed to hear that voice of yours baby," Angie sighed in relief.

"I don't want us to fight anymore, and I know you'll probably object to this, but I'm gonna say it anyway," she giggled. "When ya get home I want us to go somewhere together. I don't care if it's just a weekend in some shoebox motel, but I want some time with my favourite gal. So whatcha say Pegs?"

Dead air crackled in her ear, as she waited anxiously for Peggy to reply.

"You ain't hung up on me have ya?" Angie forced out a chuckle. "Pegs?"

Silence.

  
How was Angie to know she would remember this conversation for years to come.

  
"Peggy?"

  
The waitress knew something must be wrong, when Peggy still failed to reply. A sick sense of dread began to slowly creep across her body. Something was up.

"I'm kinda feelin' a little uneasy here, Peggy."

  
What Angie heard next stunned her. A heartbroken sob ripped from Peggy's throat. The agent sounded so lost. Angie's heart sunk as she heard Peggy gasping for breath.

"A-Angie?" The English woman choked out.

"Peggy? You're scarin' me. What's goin' on?"

Peggy voice trembled. "Angie, I... I don't... know where to b-begin. I have done something terrible. I think I might be sick."

Angie felt her own insides clench with sympathy. She could hear Peggy retch her guts up and she could do nothing. She couldn't hold her close.

  
The confused girl could only listen and offer what comfort she could. At least Peggy was reaching out to her.

"Baby? Can you hear me?" Angie soothed. "Try and take a deep breath for me hon. Can ya do that?"

Peggy swallowed. "Angie? Oh, Angie... Please, you have to promise me... Promise me that you won't hate me."

The waitress was scared. She'd never heard Peggy sound this way. Her voice cracked and raw with so much pain.

  
"Pegs, baby. It's me. Ya know you can tell me anythin'. Why don't you take a sip of water, take a breath and you can talk to me all right? I'm here, hon. I'm here."

  
"Angie, darling? Agent Thompson is dead. He was killed. I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but... They want me to stay here for a little while longer... but Angie..."

"Oh Peg, just tell me what you need."

"Angie... I don't know how to tell you this... _Please_... I'm so sorry. Please know I am sorry. I... I kissed Daniel."

Angie fell silent.

Peggy's words hit her like a bolt of lightning, the impact sending her back ramrod straight. Her knees trembled, as well as her lower lip as she bit back the sting of tears.

  
"Angie, say something?" Peggy pleaded. "You need to know that it was a mistake. That I love you."

"You win Peggy. Looks like you finally win." With that she hung up.

  
It was over.

Any hope of picking things up where they left off had been destroyed, along with Angie's heart.

Peggy had truly been the best thing that had ever happened to Angela Martinelli. Now, it was done.

The girl couldn't breathe. Her eyes scanned the room for something, anything that could stop the ache pulling her under. Reaching for the bottle of Schnapps still on the table, she drank a large gulp and grimaced. The taste burned her tongue, flooded her mouth with too many memories. Nights spent with Peggy. Carefree and full of promise. She spared a glance at the bottle before she smashed it against the wall with all of her might. As the glass splintered around her feet she made herself a promise. She vowed never to drink the stuff ever again.

  
This wasn't supposed to happen. Peggy wasn't supposed to hurt her. She could no longer cling onto false hope. Her life with Peggy was over.

_It's over. It's over._

Angie needed to leave. Escape her old life that now seemed to mock her. She needed to get out as soon as possible. The waitress could no longer be here. She couldn't live in the penthouse now. She no longer felt welcome. Angie's heart felt too heavy for one broken body to hold.

_It's over. It's really over._

Angie stumbled on unsteady feet. The girl felt queasy. Her throat felt tight as she ran over to the sink and vomited. Each retch left her feeling more nauseated. When the telephone rang once again, it was loud and shrill in her ears. She didn't answer it. She couldn't hear _her_ voice again. She wouldn't. She knew it would obliterate her.

  
The ringing would not stop, even as she gathered a few of her belongings together. The sound did not desist while she placed every gift Peggy had given her into a box. The bell still rang when she held Peggy's picture in her hands. The picture of Peggy's war years. The picture of the perfect soldier. The telephone continued to echo down the halls even as she sent the picture hurtling to the ground.

  
The phone still rang even as Angie left the penthouse and her old life behind forever.

 


	7. A box of souvenirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie is in need of a friend, while Peggy feels sorry for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with this emotional roller-coaster ride of a story. I found myself struggling with this chapter, and after a few rewrites I decided Peggy's POV was essential. I think we all need to see where Peggy's head is at. So, our favourite agent allows herself a moment to be self indulgent with all of her regrets, regarding Angie. To me, I see Peggy in this chapter as the rambling drunk at the bar. Only she is stone cold sober. Well, enough of me rambling (I'll leave that to Pegs) - A special thank you goes out to Steff. For reading this over for me. Enjoy...

** All or Nothing at All. **

****

Angie wasn't exactly sure where she was headed. Her mind was still in a fog. It was getting late and she just needed a place to bed down for one or two nights, until she could find another permanent arrangement. Her old room at the Griffith might still be available. But those plans could wait for another day. She didn't really have the energy to think about tomorrow. She needed to get through tonight.

She needed to forget that Peggy Carter ever existed.

The waitress wasn't entirely sure how she ended up outside of Scarlett's apartment block, but relief filled her pounding chest when she finally made it to the seventh floor. With a deep breath she knocked lightly. She couldn't handle being alone, not tonight.

"Just a minute." Angie heard Joyce's Texan lilt through the door as she leaned her trembling body against the door frame for support.

Angie wondered if she'd made the right choice by coming here as the door opened. Joyce stood before her with her red hair already taken back in pin curls and her robe tied firmly against her slender frame. It was clear she had already retired for the evening. Angie wondered if she should utter an apology and turn around. It wasn't fair to interrupt another one of their evenings with her problems. But, the decision to stay was made for her when Joyce practically pulled her inside before she could even speak a word.

"Angie? Baby girl, is everything alright?"

"I..."

The forlorn girl was led inside the small but cozy apartment and guided over to the sofa she had slept on only a few days ago.

"I'm sorry," Angie inhaled deeply as her heart continued to beat erratically. She was suddenly finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. "I shouldn't have... just shown up like this, uninvited." She wheezed.

Joyce shook her head, kneeling down in front of the waitress. "Nonsense, baby girl. You're always welcome here. You know that," the redhead gently took hold of Angie's trembling hands. "But honey, I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath for me. Can you do that for me, baby girl?"

Angie nodded and did as she requested while Joyce held her hands tighter.

"That's it honey. Take a deep breath. Breathe in through your nose. Just like that," Joyce instructed her, monitoring Angie's breathing for several minutes until she was satisfied that the waitress had calmed down. "Now, I don't know about you but I could use a nice cup of coffee. Then I wanna know what has got my baby girl so upset."

The actress watched Joyce walk the short distance over to the kitchen, while she continued to steady her breathing. Angie could already feel her body becoming overwhelmed with all of her pent up emotions. Her fingers began to twitch against her knee and she knew more trembling would soon follow.

"Come on, Martinelli," Angie willed herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she forced another deep breath into her lungs. "Get it together," she ordered uselessly as her hands continued to shake. Trying to fight off the need to cry, she clenched her hand into a tight fist, as a wave of anger threaten to bubble up and over inside of her.

_What has she done to me?_

 

"I think I'm gonna add another heap of sugar in your coffee, baby girl," Joyce spoke almost to herself. "It might bring some colour back into those pale cheeks of yours. Then we can get down to the talkin'."

_Talk?_

Angie opened her eyes at the sound of her voice. She knew she owed her pal an explanation. Heck, she would have expected one if a friend showed up on her doorstep in a similar state. It wasn't that she was reluctant to tell her what Peggy had done. But she knew where this conversation would lead. It would most likely result in her becoming a sniveling snotty mess and hadn't she been humiliated enough?

That thought alone made Angie bare her teeth in disgust at herself. At her own weakness. Love had made her weak. Love had made a fool out of her. Peggy had made a fool out of her, but love wouldn't do it to her again. Not if she could take charge of her emotions. Take charge of the anger that was coursing through her veins. She already felt pathetic enough. Peggy had taken everything from her and she refused to let her take her dignity as well.

_I won't let her fool me again! And she certainly doesn't deserve my tears! I refuse to let her take anything more from me._

 

"I'd rather have a real drink," Angie uttered instead, on another deep exhale. She forced down her sadness. "And a smoke if you've got one."

Joyce raised an eyebrow, but placed the coffee pot down in favour of two drinking glasses. "Alright, I guess a little spritzer wouldn't hurt and by the looks of you honey, I think you need a drink." Joyce said as she began to rummage through a kitchen cupboard, "Shoot, there ain't no Schnapps. You know how my darlin' Scarlett likes her bourbon. We do have a bottle of mighty fine gin. I could mix up something nice, if you'd like?"

"A bourbon sounds perfect to me."

"Since when does my baby girl drink the hard liquor?" Joyce questioned, before she poured a small amount in each glass.

_Tell her. Do it fast. Just like ripping off a band aid. Tell her how that woman crushed your heart under her shoe heel like it meant nothing._

 

Angie hesitated for a second before she sneered. "Since _my_   so-called gal cheated on me."

She didn't want to say Peggy's name. That name alone made all of her sadness, hurt and pain sit even heavier inside her chest. If Angie had her way she'd never speak _that_ name again.

"Oh Angie, no wonder you're upset." Joyce halted in mid stride. Angie could tell she hadn't been expecting that answer. Her eyes flickered away from Joyce's concerned gaze. The waitress could not handle any pitying looks right now. However sincere they may be. She was far too angry.

  
"Well, gee. I need a moment here to get my head around this. We're talkin' about the same Peggy here, right?" Joyce handed Angie the glass quickly followed by a cigarette.

"Yep," Angie raised her glass cynically, in a mock toast. "Cheers."

"Darn, that girl's gotta lot of explaining to do. Hurtin' someone as sweet as you. What was she thinkin'?" The redhead shook her head in disbelief as she continued. "Listen hon, I don't wanna insult your intelligence, but I gotta ask. Are you sure? Peggy didn't seem like that sorta gal and I don't wanna see you throw something so special away over some nasty piece of gossip."

That was one of the reasons why Joyce was one of Angie's best friends. She always tried to see the best in people, but not this time. There were no excuses. Peggy was a liar. Peggy was a cheat. Peggy wasn't the girl Angie thought she was.

"I got it straight from the horse's mouth." Angie huffed as she swallowed her drink in one gulp, as she contiuned to explain certain facts of the story to Joyce. She might be mad, but she would never be spiteful enough to compromise the importance of Peggy's work. Throughout her life, Angie had always put someone else's feelings before her own.

  
"So, that's the whole sordid tale." Angie sniffed, reaching for the bourbon bottle to refill her glass as she tried to fight off the wave of oncoming tears. She didn't want to give in to them. What good would sentimentality do? It wouldn't change what Peggy had done and right now anger felt more like a comfort than sadness. She would be keeping the bottle close to her tonight.

  
"Well, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you need," Joyce told her drawing in a sharp breath around the tip of her cigarette, appalled by Peggy's behaviour. "I don't know if it's the words you wanna hear, but I am sorry baby girl. I really thought Peggy was a keeper."

"So did I," Angie shrugged, abandoning the empty glass to take a swig out of the bottle. "Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was a fool for believing it could ever work out. I'm such a stupid idiot."

"Don't you dare even start blaming yourself. Peggy is the one with the cheating heart. Not you, you hear?"

Joyce waited for a few moments before speaking again. She wanted what she had said to really sink in. "What do you plan to do now, baby girl?"

"Get drunk."

Joyce gave her a sympathetic smile, as she flicked the cigarette ash into the near by ashtray. "That ain't what I meant hon and you know it. Getting drunk may seem like a good idea, but it won't make you feel better. You're gonna need a clear head to think things through. It may seem difficult right now, but you need to decide what you're gonna do next."

"You ain't suggesting that I forgive her are ya?" Angie questioned.

"No, I'm not sayin' that nor am I sayin' what she did was right, but forgiveness can be an opition if you want it to be, baby girl."

Angie ran her fingers through her hair with a deep sigh. _Forgive Peggy?_   Was she serious?

"Would you be saying the same thing if Scarlett came home and told ya she'd kissed not one, but two broads? Or even worse, guys?"

Joyce stiffened, as she imagined the scene, stubbing out her cigarette. "OK. I get your point and I'd be telling you that I don't know who I'd take a swing at first but--"

"Huh, not so easy to forgive when ya gotta walk a mile in my shoes with the added heartache is it?" Angie interrupted.

"All right, it ain't and I'm only talkin' about forgiveness because she only did some kissing. Anything more and I'd be the first one to tell you to put her behind ya and go fishing again. But I know how much you love her and sometimes you just can't walk away from love."

Angie shrugged. "She's kissed not one but two guys. I think _she_ has made it pretty clear that we're over."

"But didn't she tell you over the phone that kissin' that guy had been a mistake and that she loves you?"

Angie's only reply was another shrug.

Joyce frowned as she watched her friend take a deep drag on her second cigarette. She didn't like this sudden nonchalant attitude one bit. Peggy's confession had clearly come as a bombshell to the actress and people handled heartache in many different ways. But Angie was not acting like herself and it had Joyce worried. Something about Angie's emotions seemed off. It was as if she had shut down and Joyce intended to keep a close eye on her dear friend.

 

"You've had a big shock tonight," Joyce touched the side of Angie's face softly. "Why don't you turn in for the evening and hopefully the bourbon might make you sleepy enough to get some shut eye. I think we may even have a spare pillow for you in the closet."

  
Angie didn't argue and gave her a single nod. She wasn't really in the mood for more talking and she didn't want to be anymore bother to Joyce. With a sigh, she brought the bottle up to her lips for another long sip. At the sharp taste of the alcohol, a flood of memories rushed back at her all at once through her haze. She realised she hadn't drank whisky since the night she had said goodbye to Teresa all those years ago and one thing still hadn't changed; bourbon still tasted like sorrow.

 

No matter how hard she tried or how much she drank. Peggy's sweet face just wouldn't leave her mind.

\--

The heartbroken waitress awoke disoriented. Her fingers still gripped the neck of the almost empty bottle of bourbon. Angie smacked her dry mouth while she tried to fight off the constant throbbing in her temples. Rubbing the sleep away from her heavy lidded eyes, she forced herself to her feet. A loud yawn soon followed as she staggered over to the sink in search of water. Narrowly avoiding sending a cup crashing to the floor, she dipped her mouth to the running faucet and drank down greedy gulps until she heard movement coming from behind her.

"Mornin'," Joyce greeted her. "I thought I heard you stirrin'. How are you holdin' up baby girl?"

The warmth of Joyce's voice managed to bring a hint of a smile to Angie's glum expression. "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No, I'm always an early riser," Joyce said softly, keeping her tone low. "I am surprised to find you awake, given how much you drank last night. My Scarlett had the surprise of her life when she got home from the bar to find you asleep on the sofa. Speakin' of my darlin' can I ask that you keep the noise down, baby girl. My woman needs her sleep after workin' all night."

Angie felt a pang of resentment at the caring overtones of Joyce's voice. She knew it was petty, that her friends had been nothing but kind and generous to her, but that didn't stop the selfish stab of pain she felt. Being around a loving couple only reminded her of what she thought she had and what she had lost. What Peggy had thrown away. It was the equivalent of pouring salt into her already deep wound. She really thought Peggy cared. She thought they had a love built to last.

_I'm just a fool._

 

"Sorry. I didn't think." Angie said, fighting down the bile in the back of her throat at the thought of Peggy. "I've gotta be in work soon anyhow."

"That's alright hon," Joyce smiled filling up the coffee pot. "But are you sure you should be goin' to work? I was kinda hopin' that you'd join me and Dolores for one of our coffee afternoons."

"Thanks, but I wouldn't be much company and besides, I don't wanna wear out my welcome."

Joyce touched her shoulder softly, with an even brighter smile. "Why would you go and say somethin' silly like that? I want you to think of this place as your home now."

"You're sweet, but I really feel awful for imposing on you both like this. I promise as soon as I find another place to stay--"

"Hush now. You're practically family to us and I don't wanna hear another word about it." Joyce nodded firmly. Once her pal had made up her mind about something there usually wasn't any changing it.

"Thank you, Joyce. Truly." Angie hoped Joyce could read the sincerity in her eyes, even if her voice couldn't manage more than a hoarse croak.

"You're welcome baby girl," the redhead smiled, pulling Angie into a tight hug. "Now, if you insist on goin' to work. You're gonna need some breakfast. Why don't I make you a big bowl of Oatmeal while you go and get ready?"

Angie tried to muster a smile, before turning her attention to the bag she had hastily dropped by the front door last night. Once the clip had been opened and her uniform was in hand, her stomach lurched and her head swirled with heavy emotion. The aromas of the penthouse, of home clung to the fabric. The waitress felt her knees knock together. She hated the visceral effects that her heartbreak was having on her body. Why couldn't she rein in this feeling of overwhelming sadness? She needed a cigarette. No, she needed something stronger. She needed something to take the edge off. She needed something to make her forget. Angie needed another drink.

 _I need to forget. Forget her smile. Her promises. I just need to forget her and a little bit of whisky_ _will help me to do that._

  
"Urm... I think I might pass on the offer of breakfast. Thanks all the same. I don't wanna be late." Angie faked a more lighter tone. If she stayed for breakfast then she wouldn't have time to stop by the liquor store. Then she really would be late, and the thought of a lecture from her fat-headed boss was the last thing Angie wanted. She just needed something to hold onto.

_I just need to forget._

 

"You can't go to work on an empty stomach," Joyce frowned, already fastening the bow on her apron. "One of the reasons our boys won the war was so no one would ever go hungry again."

"I'll grab somethin' at the Automat."

"You promise?"

Angie only nodded. The last thing she wanted was for Joyce to worry about her. She'd be fine, she just needed something to take the pain away while she figured things out. She needed the feeling of nothingness to fade.

 

* * *

 

Peggy had missed a lot of things regarding Angie. The word ' _missed_ ' didn't seem strong enough somehow. Yearned, perhaps. The constant dull ache that had gnawed insistently through her gut without Angie's familiar ever-loving presence. She longed to hear the sound of Angie's voice. Longed for the warmth of her. Longed for the sound of her heart beating against her ear before she drifted off into slumber. Peggy hadn't realised what a struggle it would be to fall asleep without its steady rhythm.

What had she done?

Her own heart had taken a blow. It seemed to beat out the loss she felt without Angie's constant warm glow and it was all destroyed by her own hand. She had demolished her own happiness until all that remained was rubble.

Peggy Carter had made a terrible mistake. One that couldn't be corrected. Peggy Carter was nothing but a coward.

 

_'Don't disappear on me now, English.'_

 

Angie's words had come back to haunt her.

Peggy could almost hear Angie's loving voice, as she stared out of the small window of Howard's private plane, down to the clouds below. Recalling every broken promise she had ever made to her sweet Angie. She'd taken her for granted. Taken every moment for granted.

Never again.

"You complete idiot!" Peggy scolded herself, as her lips wrapped around the edge of the crystal glass she was holding. She sipped the Scotch inside and allowed herself a moment to wallow in the misery of her own making.

At least the flight had given her more time to think. More time to put things in perspective. More time for her to realise what she had almost lost.

"You prize wanker!" She added, raking her nails sharply through her fallen curls. She was well aware that her appearance wasn't up to her usual standards, but that was the very last thing on the agent's mind. Peggy had never raced across the Tarmac of Howard's private hanger so quickly in all of her life. Her every instinct demanded that she had to get to Angie. She needed to put things right. She needed to explain, beg for forgiveness that she knew she did not deserve. But she had to try and Peggy was not going to waste another second. She'd wasted too much time already.

  
Peggy's world was dangerous. It was full of unscrupulous people with even more treacherous agendas. But it was her job to fight for justice and freedom. To be courageous and make the world a better place. It was a world within she succeeded and Peggy Carter was damn well good at her job. But that lifestyle also put the people around her in jeopardy. The people she cared for would always be caught in the cross fire. There would always be a price to pay, but it was the path she had chosen. Angie had not. Angie was meant for big things. Angie was destined to have her name up in lights. To have her name spoken with awe. She deserved it and the waitress had earned it.

"Angie would be safer without bloody Peggy Carter around," Peggy huffed out her annoyance to the empty jet. She was certain that the pilot by now thought she was insane, but Peggy was too caught up in her own thoughts to really care.

Peggy had tried to convince herself that Angie would be better off without her. That if she kept her distance then she would somehow be magically safer. _Bollocks!_ Who was she kidding? Only herself. Angie was the best thing to ever happen to her. Maybe she was being selfish, but she loved Angie too much to leave her behind.

She'd realised too late that what was the point of living, what was the point of fighting the good fight, if she didn't have Angie to share it all with? Angie was her conscience, her very heart, her soul. Peggy hadn't been living. She had been merely existing before Angie came into her life, bringing light to her dull lonely existence. She taught her that life wasn't all about work, that she too deserved to be loved and cared for.

Damn her bloody job! Damn the now corrupt SSR. She could deal with that mess later. For now Angie needed her and more importantly, she needed Angie.

"What have I done?" Peggy reflected.

\--

When Peggy finally arrived home, she lingered by the door with trepidation.

"Come on, Carter. You can do this. You owe her this." Peggy told herself, taking a deep breath as she punched in the locking code to the penthouse door.

_It's time to start righting all of your many wrongs._

 

"Angie? I-I'm home."

The agent closed the door behind her and dropped her suitcase down with a heavy thunk. The faint smell of Angie's perfume lingered and Peggy closed her eyes. She was finally home.

The moment of joy was short lived. The penthouse seemed too still. Angie's presence was lacking, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Without the usual comforting sounds of Angie rehearsing her lines or singing along with the radio the place felt empty. Hollow without Angie's spirit.

Peggy too felt like an empty shell as she continued on with the quest for any signs of her lover. The first thing she noticed was a box placed in the middle of one of the many antique tables the penthouse had to offer. Peering inside, her heart sank at the sight of all the gifts she had sent to Angie. The mementos inside seemed like a mockery now.

Next her attention turned to her pot-plant. The small leafy house plant had been with her since she had first moved to New York, and the poor thing had been neglected more than once. As she ran her fingertip over the shining leaf which had flourished in her absence. Bloomed under sweet Angie's care. Peggy's bottom lip began to tremble.

It was the sight of a smashed photo frame that stopped Peggy in her tracks. The agent sank down to her knees where the frame lay broken and all the regret she was holding onto burst free, leaving her chest heaving with broken-hearted sobs.

  
Peggy had come to her senses too late. She had played with fire and had got burnt. The second she had pulled away from Daniel's kiss, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Angie who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. A fact she'd always known, but realised too late.

Peggy always respected Daniel. He was one of the good guys, understanding even and she'd flirted with the idea of taking things further during this mission. He knew the life. He knew what was involved and it seemed almost inevitable that something should happen. Though Peggy would be the first one to admit she wasn't one for predictably. It certainly would make her life less complicated and heaven knew her head had been all over the place during this case. She wished she could lay all the blame on Ms Frost and zero-matter but her confusion was in part because of Angie.

Peggy planned to be noble; to give Angie up, so that the actress could finally live her life without all of the hardships that loving Peggy Carter gave her. The endless worrying. The secrets and the stress. She wanted Angie to be happy.

She told herself to harden her heart. Angie was in New York and safe. Out of sight and forcing her to be out of mind. The English woman needed a distraction and one came in the form of Daniel Sousa.

It could work, she told herself. It would be _easy_ even, but romance shouldn't be about easiness. Love should be all consuming and Peggy wanted _passion_ and Angie was her fire. Her desire. From the moment her brown eyes locked onto Angie she wanted her and Peggy used any excuse to seek her out.

_Selfish. I'm just selfish._

 

Kissing Daniel had been a mistake.

  
Her mistake.

The man deserved a woman who could truly love him and her heart already belonged to Angie.

She needed to find her.

She couldn't lose Angie. Angie was her very strength.

 

* * *

 

Angie had been watching the clock all morning, and was relieved when the breakfast rush had whittled down to just five people. She was tired of having to force a smile and exchange polite chit-chat to each customer she served. The half a bottle of whisky she had drank wasn't helping either.

Her stomach felt like a cyclone and she couldn't wait to soak up the alcohol with some food. She had after all made a promise to Joyce, and Angie Martinelli was a girl never to break her promises.

"Thanks doll," an elderly man smiled as Angie placed down a plate of potato pancakes with a side of ham. "Could ya fill up my cup too?" The man rattled his white mug as she began to walk away from his booth.

"Sure." She poured what was left from the nearly empty coffee pot she was also holding. "Enjoy."

With another attempt at a smile, she began to walk away for a second time until she froze at the sound of Peggy's voice behind her.

"Hello Angie." 


	8. I gave my love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy's back - aka Showdown part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Steff for proof-reading this. Enjoy...

**All or Nothing at All.**

 

_'Hello Angie.'_

 

A million different reactions crashed over Angie all at once. No amount of preparation could have prepared her for this moment. Well, Peggy did always favour the element of surprise.

The rational side of her brain knew that she would have to see Peggy eventually. It was inevitable. Questions needed answers, but now Peggy was finally here within reach, she didn't have a clue how she should act.

The waitress could feel her whole body tense and her throat tighten. She simply wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to come face-to-face with the woman who had destroyed her heart. Not yet. Angie needed more time to come to terms with what Peggy had done. Because this person who had hurt her couldn't be her gal, not her sweet loving Peggy and Angie was afraid that she would never be able to view Peggy in the same light ever again.

  
"Angie?"

 

With the second call of her name the spell was broken.

Angie's mind began to spin, and the robust coffee pot she was holding went crashing down onto the tiled floor. It clattered loudly between them, as Angie finally turned to face her lover. The rest of her surroundings faded away and her entire world narrowed leaving Peggy as her only sole focus.

The sight of Peggy's hopeful expression stole her very breath. Her lungs seem to burn. Her body betrayed her and she took a tentative step forward. The overwhelming need for Peggy seemed just as essential to her as the oxygen she suddenly craved.

 

"Angie, are you alright?"

 

_Nothing about this mess is alright. You've ruined me, Peggy._

  
"I'm fine," the waitress huffed, as she bent down to wipe up the spilled coffee.

"You didn't burn yourself did you?" Peggy crouched, placing her hand on top of Angie's to still the flustered movements of the dish cloth.

Time seem to stand still around them as brown glistening eyes continued to bore into blue.

 

_No. Those eyes won't pull me in this time!_

  
Angie shook her head from her stupor and moved her hand away as if the touch itself had scalded her. Those same remorseful brown eyes blinked in surprise as they watched Angie retreat.

"Angie, please?" Peggy said, her tone desperate. "We need to talk," her eyes silently demanding she stay as she grabbed a light hold to the crook of Angie's arm.

"I'm working," the waitress snapped in a hushed tone, tugging herself out of Peggy's grasp, sparing a glance to the dwindling customers.

"Surely you can take a break?"

"I told you I am working and it's not like I can go anywhere on the clock anyway. You can though. The door is that way."

"I deserve that and more, but we both know that I'm not leaving until you hear me out," Peggy replied, hot on her heels, as Angie stalked across the restaurant floor.

"Huh, that's never stopped you walkin' out on me before," Angie bit, the blow from her words delivered successfully as the agent momentarily paused before she settled herself upon the stool. Angie quickly swallowed down the feeling of guilt as she refilled the coffee pot. Why should she spare Peggy's feelings when the English woman had trampled over her own.

"I can't tell you how good it is to see you."

"Then don't," Angie whirled around from behind the counter trying to keep her temper in check. Now was not the time or the place for a tense domestic conversation.

"Miss?"

Angie couldn't help the deep sigh she let slip as an elderly woman called for her attention. "Excuse me, miss, but I'd like the check please."

"Sure thing ma'am."

The sweet grey haired lady kept Angie talking about the traffic build up and the miserable weather for ten whole minutes, while Peggy sat patiently. Still unserved. Was her luck really that shitty lately that she happened to be the only one working the floor today?

 

_Just my luck._

 

"Enjoy the rest of your day ma'am." Angie waved to the old dear. She felt sick. She felt frustrated and vulnerable all at the same time.

This was going to be a long day and the half a bottle of whisky still in her bag was becoming more and more tempting.

  
Holding her head up high, she approached Peggy, who even after all she had done still had a firm hold of her heart.

 

"What do you want?" The honey-coloured blonde eventually asked, looking down at her order pad, tapping her pencil repeatedly on the paper.

"Angie, please, I just want a chance to speak with you--"

"I meant to eat."

Angie was aware how cold her tone was, how harsh but she couldn't afford to let even the slightest crack appear in her armor. Angie refused to let Peggy know that just being around her was enough to feel herself weakening. Peggy could spot weakness a mile away and Angie could not give her the upper hand.

"I'll take a tea please, but Angie..." Peggy sighed, placing her hand flat on the surface of the counter top, sliding it closer to Angie's own. The tips of her fingers almost making contact until Angie sharply pulled away.

"One tea comin' up." Angie uttered sarcastically.

  
Angie could feel herself frowning as she poured the hot water over the tea bag. She could feel the weight of Peggy's stare and hoped the agent still had enough common decency in her to be able to tell how uncomfortable she was with all of this. Peggy had lost the right to demand anything of her. No longer would Angie come running just because Peggy clicked her perfectly painted fingers nails. After all what could she say to magic all the heartache away? Nothing. The damage was done.

"Here's your tea," she dropped the cup down in front of the brunette with such force, that it caused the dark liquid to slosh into the saucer.

"Angie will you please hear me out?" Peggy exhaled, her voice strained. "Shout at me or anything, but all this silence is like bloody torture." Peggy bowed her head, her index finger constantly drumming out a pattern with each word spoken.

Angie tilted her head to the side quizzically, not quite believing her ears. "You've gotta be kidding right? You really think I want to hear what you've got to say? Some stupid bullshit apology?"

"I think it's eminently clear that I have mucked up, and I know saying sorry won't be enough to fix the damage I have done, but God, Angie you must know that I am. I'm so sorry."

"Psttt! Mucked up?" Angie scoffed, her voice soften slightly. "That's puttin' it lightly ain't it."

"I am a complete idiot," Peggy shook her head, while her tapping fingers became even more erratic. "But I believe that nothing is so broken that it can not be mended," Peggy sighed, willing Angie to believe her. "Please darling, let me make things right. A second chance, if you will."

Angie narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw so hard it made her ears pop. The longer she stood in front of Peggy the more angrier she became.

"You never cease to amaze me Peggy Carter!" Angie seethed, her hands forming fists by her sides, "You think saying sorry earns you a second chance? And would you stop fidgeting! It's driving me to distraction. You're never fidgety."

Peggy flashed a brief smile, stilling her movements. "Sorry, but I've just missed you so much--"

"No, you don't get to do that. You can't swan in here and act like everything is fine between us. You've made a complete fool of me."

"Angie--"

"What?" Angie barked, trying to keep her voice low and steady, "You gonna blame the mission? That you tripped and fell onto his lips?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I know I have behaved recklessly, but walk a mile in my shoes--"

"Oh, no. Don't you dare!" Angie rasped out, rendering Peggy silent by the look in her eyes alone. "I have always put you first. To the point where nowadays I'm always keeping my trap shut. I keep quiet while you go off chasing down the bad guys. It doesn't matter that I'm scared half to death that you ain't coming home. That some bum is gonna get a lucky swing in. I don't say nothin' because I know it's your job and I don't wanna put extra pressure on you, but don't you dare say walk a mile in my shoes!"

"Darling, that came out wrong."

"Did it?" Angie huffed, shaking her head. "Because I just don't understand you right now. Do you even care, Peggy? Do you? What you've done to me? What you've put me through?"

Peggy ran a hand through her hair and exhaled. The woman looked just as lost as Angie as their eyes locked. "Of course I care. I know my actions say otherwise, but I just don't know how to make you believe me."

"Did I do something wrong, Peg? Is that why you did it?" Angie asked, her tone hurt. "You know what? Forget that I asked. I just want you to go. I can't stand to look at you right now."

"Angie please. I love you."

"I said get out."

Angie didn't wait around to find out if Peggy had complied with her wishes. She just needed a moment, as she turned her back on Peggy.

The waitress felt her stomach churn and welcomed the gust of air that greeted her as she pushed open the restaurant's back door. The girl gagged as she felt the sudden urge to be to sick. Bracing her hand against the alley wall, Angie retched, relieving her body from its liquid lunch.

She cast a glance to the welcoming sight of people passing by at the end of the street and thought about how easy it would be to run. To sprint as fast as her legs could carry her, away from this emotional mess. Closing her eyes she exhaled deeply. She hoped her surroundings would stop spinning long enough for her to catch her breath. She suddenly felt a firm hand touch her shoulder. To her relief, it wasn't Peggy's face that greeted her, but the warm deep set brown eyes of Mitch the Automat's cook.  
  
"Damn Ange," Mitch's expression contorted as he gave her the once over. "You look like shit."

"Thanks." Angie spat on the ground trying to rid her mouth from the after taste of vomit.  
  
"Yous doin' OK? 'Cause I've never seen a dame move so quick. Geeze girl," he uttered, his tone more sympathetic as he gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "You never ate any of those crab cakes yesterday did ya?"

Angie couldn't help the questioning smirk as she shook her head. "No."

"Good. 'Cause the boss sure did and let's put it this way, he was in the crapper for a lot longer than usual," Mitch continued his tale when he noticed the faintest hint of a smile lingering on Angie's pale face. "That greedy jerk ate almost the whole tray before the customers could even get a sniff."

Angie mustered another smile as she wiped the fine coat of sweat on her brow with the back of her hand.

"So, you're lucky he ain't in today. You can take it easy since the place is dead and you won't have _him_ breathing down your neck," Mitch smiled, collecting his packet of smokes from his back pocket. "I can make ya one of my famous omelettes," he suggested, as he handed Angie a cigarette.

"What do you say, Ange?"

"Thanks," Angie smiled, as Mitch struck the match for her. "I'd like that."

  
The two friends stood in silence while they finished their cigarettes. When she finally returned Peggy was gone.

\--

 

The weight of Peggy's stare was still resting heavy in her mind as she climbed the winding staircase. The way those same brown eyes gazed at her like Angie was still the most important person on the face of this whole earth. That reason alone was enough for the confused waitress to feel sick to her stomach. She was only grateful that her shift was over and Mitch had remained close by throught out.

_How dare Peggy show up like nothing's wrong!_

 

All the heartache Peggy had caused her still did not stop her mind brimming over with worry for the agent. The concern for Peggy's well-being invaded Angie's thoughts and she loathed herself for caring. It made her feel weak. How under fed Peggy looked. And the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes. Heck, Angie even noticed how Peggy's peach coloured blouse was creased.

Once again Peggy had been neglecting herself all for the sake of the mission.

"Shit." Angie cursed when she had reached Scarlett's front door. In her haste to leave this morning she forgot to ask if anyone would be home and without a key; she didn't really feel like sitting in the hallway all evening.

"Way to go, Martinelli," Angie huffed, as her knuckles thudded on the door. To her relief Scarlett was still home.

"Hey," Scarlett's gravelly voice greeted her, covering a yawn. The bar owner was still clad in her sleep wear of a white tank top and shorts and Angie tried to swallow down more guilt at having clearly woken her. "Joyce said you were at the L&L?"

"Yeah. I've finished for the day. Sorry, were ya still sleepin'?"

Scarlett shook her head. "No. I'd just got up to make myself a sandwich and a cup of mud. Want one?" 

"I ate already, thanks," Angie replied as Scarlett stepped closer to her. Angie could feel the brunette's gaze watching her closely, but the idea of more food right now made her want to retch her guts up again. "Mitch, our chef made me eat the egg platter."

"Good, but geeze, Martinelli ya stink of liqour." Scarlett sniffed the air, as Angie felt her cheeks flush. She didn't want her friend to know she had been drinking again this morning. She really didn't want to hear a lecture right now.

"I..."

"Did you even take a bath today?" Scarlett smirked.

"No." Angie hung her head, grateful for the fact that she didn't have to tell another out right lie.

 

_Great. I'm lying to my friends now?_

 

"I can tell," the brunette nudged her playfully. "So, how was your day? Did anyone complain about your stink?" She laughed good-naturedly.

Angie's attempt at a smile faded. "No, but can I?" She sighed, reaching for the little white dish that contained Joyce's cigarette stash.

"Yeah, bad day?"  
  
"S-She... was there." Angie frowned, fumbling to light her cigarette.

"Who?" Scarlett frowned, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze at Angie's worried expression. The friendly touch was welcomed. It made her feel that somebody still cared, but Angie felt too empty to take comfort from it for too long. However she dressed it up, she was now alone.

" _Her!_ " Angie spat.

"What? Peggy? She's back?" The brunette asked. "Joyce told me what happened. I wanted to talk to you about it once you'd gotten home. I guess there ain't no point askin' if you're OK because I can tell by the looks of ya that you ain't. Pal, Peggy is a complete _yuck_ for what she's done to ya." Scarlett sighed. "A real Able Grable." 

"I just want to forget about her."

Scarlett nodded, with a half shrug as she gently nudged Angie to take a seat. "Understandable."

"Can I come to the bar with you tonight?"

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah. Me and Joyce can have a girl's night. It's just what I need."

Scarlett frowned while she went to pour two cups of coffee. "I know I ain't one to preach when I'd be reaching for the bourbon too if I were you, but Joyce told me you hit the bottle pretty hard last night, kiddo."

"I just wanna have fun and I promise I won't be drinking anymore Martinis."

"OK," the bar owner chuckled. "I know Dolores will be happy to see ya again."

"Hmmm." Angie wrapped her hands tightly around the offered cup. Her only plan for this evening was to forget the name Peggy Carter.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- 40s slang --  
> \-- "Mud" -- Coffee --  
> \-- "Yuck" -- A Foolish person --  
> \-- "A real Able Grable" -- A girl with low morals --


	9. Deja vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie hears some much needed advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. I'm sorry for the long pause between posting a new chapter. Times get busy and also I lost a little of my confidence regarding my writing. But I did not want to leave this story unfinished because I love Peg and Angie too much for that. So, I view this chapter as a bridge until the next sort of show down between our gals. Enjoy...

**All or Nothing at All.**

Her head hurt.

Or rather it pounded. The light seemed to bright. Her limbs felt to heavy when she finally managed to force her eyes to open. Was it really morning already? With a groan of discomfort, her bleary eyes found focus on a slender form padding softly around the kitchen.

"Peggy?" She mumbled, still dazed.

"Morning, baby girl. It's only me."

"Joyce?" Angie doubled blinked, rubbing last nights crud away from her eyes. "Urg! How much did I have to drink last night?"

The redhead gave her a gentle smile, before making her way over to the sofa. "Enough..."

"To what? Sink a battleship. Urrrr, sounds about right." She groaned.

The waitress could remember the band playing. The sound of loud chatter. Being served only Pepsi for the first hour at Scarlett's insistance, until she pouted for something a little stronger. Then once the alcohol hit her system, she recalled grinding bodies packed tightly together on the crowded dance floor... Then everything became a little hazy.

"I was trying to be polite, but now isn't the time for last nights regrets," Joyce told her, perching herself on the arm rest. "It's still real early out, hon. So, the best thing you can do right now, is try and sleep it off. You'll feel much better for it."

_Regrets? Boy, those are certainly piling up._

  
"How did I get back here?" Angie forced her body into a sitting position, ignoring the wise advice. She knew trying to chase sleep again would be pointless. Her thoughts weren't so easy to switch off now she had sobered up.

"In a cab. Then my Scarlett carried you bridal style, all the way up them stairs."

Joyce's tone may have been teasing, but Angie just wanted to crawl away and hide. They shouldn't have to deal with her drunken foolishness and she also knew her return home wasn't as gracious as Joyce had described either.

Her memory of last night maybe foggy, but certain details suddenly hit her with perfect clarity. Angie remembered swaying on the sidewalk while she waited for Scarlett to lock up. She disentangled herself from Joyce's firm grip long enough to take a few shaky steps forward. Lost her footing and landed in a pile of garbage bags that were piled up along the back alley.

_"Angie? Gee, are you alright?" Joyce had hurried over._

_"Hey, I should be used to this," Angie giggled. "It's where Peggy left me after all. In the gutter."_

_Her laughter echoed down the dark passage way until it turned into heartbreaking sobs._

_"Oh kid." Scarlett soon joined them, tending to the broken-hearted girl._

_"Why did she do this?" Angie asked, being scooped up into Scarlett's arms._

No sooner than she felt the comforting warmth of body heat, she had passed out.

 

"I never intended to drink so much last night." Angie sighed, but they both knew that statement was a lie.

"You won't be the first and certainly not the last to try and forget your worries by drinking a little too much," Joyce smiled, patting her arm before she got to her feet. "Now, would you like a glass of water before I head out?"

"Oh? No thanks, but you're going out?"

"Yeah, I've got some errands to run before I head out to work," Joyce told her. "But you should rest baby girl. You look exhausted."

Angie rubbed her aching head watching Joyce fix her hair in the mirror. She felt consumed by guilt as their eyes met in the reflection. She hadn't even considered that Joyce had somewhere to be the next day. The seamstress must have only gotten a few hours sleep, but still she had remained diligent by Angie's side while the waitress drank herself into oblivion.

She couldn't feel more lousy even if she tried.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey now. None of that. You've got nothing to apologise for."

Angie buried her head in her hands. They both knew that too wasn't true. "You shoulda told me you had to work. I wouldn't have dragged you along with me last night."

"You didn't drag me anywhere," Joyce turned to face her. "And maybe I should have told you, but I don't think I would have gotten a wink of sleep anyhow. Knowing you were out all night, upset like you were." The red-head sighed, brushing aside a strand of hair from Angie's face. "Angie, hon? I'm gonna just come right out and say it. You had me worried last night. In all the years I've known you, I have never seen you drink so much. I know matters of the heart take time, and I know it don't feel like it right now, but your heart will mend. The heartache will fade and tomorrow will seem much brighter."

_God, please let it be true. Please let something, anything make this hurt stop._

"You're not alone baby girl. Me and that lovable lug in there care so much about you, and it breaks my heart seeing you so... broken," Joyce squeezed her shoulder. "When I get home tonight I'm going to cook you a mighty fine dinner. Mama always said there ain't nothing a home cooked meal can't fix. So, how's about it?"

The hope in Joyce's eyes alone, made Angie agree. Her heart would still be broken, but pretending it wasn't could be a start.

"As long as I can help. You're on."

"That's the spirit, but I gotta run. See you later baby girl."

  
After the soft click of the door, the room fell mostly silent. The ticking motion of the clock pendulum was the only noise to accompany her. She hadn't drank so much in her whole life, but the alcohol seemed to be the only tool to help her forget. It was the only comfort she could find. Though, Joyce had a point didn't she? Heartaches, given time, do fade. They have too.

The waitress knew she had behaved recklessly last night. That much she did recollect. She had accepted drinks from any gal that offered. Her mind flickered back to the bright blue eyes of a sweet talking brunette. Roaming hands and soft fingertips grazing her thigh as the pair graced the floor for a slow fox trot...

_"Peggy that you?" Angie had slurred, her fingers making swirling patterns along the strangers back._

_"I can be whoever you want me to be doll." The woman giggled, her nose nudging Angie's neck._

_"Oh fuck, English... w-where ya been baby?" Angie stammered, feeling another pair of hands grab around her waist._

_"I think it's time you beat it." Scarlett's voice uttered, cutting in and breaking apart the dancing duo._

_The drunken actress giggled, flopping like a fish as she felt herself being pulled back into a strong pair of arms._

_"Sorry." The brunette backed down in the face of the broad shouldered bar owner._

_"S-Scarlett," Angie grinned, draping herself over her friend. "I w-was just dancin'."_

_Scarlett stared dubiously at her, before she pulled her back over to the bar. "Since your decision making skills are almost nonexistent tonight,_ _You're stayin' where I can keep my eyes on ya." The New Yorker huffed, slamming down a glass of water a few seconds later. "Drink that."_

_"Don't mind if I do." Angie giggled, bringing the glass to her lips._

_"Ange spendin' the night with some floozy ain't gonna help."_

And she was right. For the rest of the night, Joyce and Scarlett hardly let her out of their sights. Angie felt real lucky to have such good pals in her life. She knew without doubt that she would have done something even more stupid with that blue eyed girl.

_What was I thinking?_

Angie's cheeks burned with shame at the memory.

When had her life taken on this damaging routine? This needed to stop.

  
The lithe girl swung her legs from the sofa, planting her feet firmly on the floor. Smacking her mouth, she could still taste the sour bourbon lingering on her tongue. She knew sleep would be redundant now. Her mind was much to full of regrets, but a strong cup of coffee wouldn't hurt.

"Hey Martinelli. We oughta stop meetin' like this," Scarlett greeted her. "It's becoming somethin' of a habit."

Angie gasped, startled by the sound of the unexpected voice. Lucky for her, she still had the presence of mind not to send another coffee pot hurtling to the ground. "Shit! I thought you were asleep?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to frighten ya."

"It's fine, but I know for certain that I didn't wake ya this time." Angie smiled, despite the pounding in her skull.

Scarlett laughed, with a crack of her shoulder. "I was hopin' to catch Joyce before she left, but guess I missed her already."

"Sorry, the beanpole just left." Angie replied with a smile, pouring two cups of coffee.

"That's rich comin' from you, little miss scrawny." Scarlett grinned, the two falling into their easy banter.

"Ha-ha you're so funny."

"You're spry this mornin'. Considering what you drank last night." Scarlett sipped her brew.

"About that," Angie sighed. "I owe you. You really saved me from makin' even more of an ass of myself."

Scarlett nodded, her eyes growing softer. "You're young, kiddo and everyone makes mistakes."

"Joyce said something similar this morning. Just before she left."

"She's a wise woman. So I should listen to her if I were you."

Angie smiled. "You know I think I just might," the waitress agreed taking a welcoming gulp of coffee. "Since we're both up with the lark. Why don't I make us some breakfast? It's the least I can do."

"Breakfast sounds ace, but first I gotta run down to Tony's for some meat. We ain't got nothin' in and I'm guessing with your hangover you could use some real food?" Scarlett suggested, hoping to brighten Angie's day. "And we could go all out and have a plate full of the old goo and the moo too." 

Before Angie could reply the sound of a light tap against the door made them both turn their head's in unison. Angie recognised that distinctive knock anywhere. It was Peggy. Peggy was here.

_Shit. How did she know where to find me?_

"Hey, maybe Joyce wanted that good mornin' kiss after all." Scarlett smirked, making a move to answer the door until Angie stopped her.

"That ain't Joyce. It's Peggy."

"You can see through doors now can ya?" The brunette chuckled, until Peggy called out.

"Angie. I know you're in there... Please, let me in," Peggy's voice implored through the closed door. "I haven't come here looking for a fight."

Angie could only stare at the closed door. Her brain far to hung over for any real decisive action.

"Do ya want me to tell her to go?" Scarlett offered, breaking Angie from her sudden trance. "Or do ya wanna talk to her?"

_Talk?_ The seeming loaded-question gave the waitress pause. Peggy wouldn't be so easily deterred a second time around, this much she was aware of. Perhaps, she could face the music once again.

"I..."

"Listen, it wouldn't be the first dame I've had to escort off the premises. I own a bar remember," the brunette smiled. "If you're not ready to see her again. Then don't kiddo. It's that simple."

Scarlett's tone was soft and self assured, along with Peggy's own, still pleading on the other side of the door. But Angie wouldn't let herself be a coward in front of Peggy again. She wasn't the one in the wrong, so she wouldn't run. Not again.

"No. Let her in." Angie nodded firmly. Her mind made up.

 

Angie's thoughts whirled while she watched Scarlett move to answer the door. She stiffened as the two exchanged a low greeting. Angie could tell by Peggy's quiet tone that the agent hadn't been expecting Scarlett to greet her and especially not in her night wear. The queasy feeling in her stomach only intensified when Peggy entered the apartment.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 40s slang words. -  
> 'Goo and the moo.' = Pancakes with syrup and milk.


	10. A heart that's haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie can't avoid her feelings forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter has taken so long to post. I've been getting over a chesty cough and a rotten cold. Blah! - But I'm glad that this chapter is done. Thank you to everyone who is still following this story. It means a lot to me. Enjoy...

**All or Nothing at All.**

 

  
"Hello Angie."

  
Silence.

It settled around the three of them, awkward and uncomfortable. Angie was aware Peggy had spoken. Her eyes instantly fell to Peggy's pretty lips, but all the aspiring actress could do was stare. The persistent throbbing in her head wasn't helping matters and only seemed to speed up double time once their eyes connected.

Brown piercing eyes roamed over her form, and Angie was suddenly over come with how dishevelled she must look. Hair most likely limp and greasy, stuck to her temples from last nights stale sweat. She unconsciously tried to straighten out her crumpled dress. It unsettled her, how exposed and vulnerable she still felt under the agent's scrutiny.

The last thing she wanted was Peggy to pity her.

  
The tension seem to linger, until Scarlett cleared her throat. "So... I'll just throw on some clothes and leave ya to it."

 _Leave?_ She knew Scarlett was doing the polite thing. Giving them the space they needed to talk, but Angie's moment of bravery was quickly deserting her. Being alone with Peggy meant actually trying to deal with her emotions and she simply wasn't ready. She didn't know if she'd ever be ready.

_One look at her and I feel like I'm drowning._

 

"What about your breakfast?" Angie panicked, reaching out grasping Scarlett's forearm, stalling for more time. "Cause I was gonna go to Tony's for ya, and fix you your breakfast like I promised, because you know Joyce would have my guts for garters if she found out you skipped." She tried to keep her tone even, clinging onto her friend like she was her only lifeline.

"It's OK," Scarlett placed a reassuring hand to Angie's small shoulder. "Like I said, I'll head to the butchers--"

"What exactly am I interrupting here?" Peggy inquired, tone clipped. Forceful, as she eyed the pair suspiciously. "Breakfast was it?"

Angie blinked dumbfounded, her hands closing into fists by her sides. Peggy wouldn't have the audacity to accuse her of being untrue? Would she?

_God, this woman has some nerve. After everything she's done!_

 

The obvious implication hadn't gone unnoticed by Scarlett either who frowned, stepping closer to Peggy. "Excuse me?"

"You heard the question," Peggy surged forward. Almost nose to nose with her sudden adversary.

"War hero or not. You're lucky I don't lay one on you after that snide remark. Especially after what you've done to Angie." Scarlett threatened, with a harsh breath through her nose.

"Hey!" The waitress instinctively sprang into action. The last thing she needed was to start playing nurse maid to split lips and bruised egos.

"Enough!" Angie forced herself inbetween them. Her small frame protectively shielding her friend. Angie knew ordinarily that Scarlett could more than handle herself in situations such as these. The bar owner had the muscles and strength to back herself up, but Peggy possessed the abilities of a trained assassin. This would not end well if tempers escalated further.

"The both of you, need to knock it off," Angie warned, taking a step closer into Peggy's personal space. "If jumping to stupid conclusions ain't enough, you wanna start brawlin' with my good pal?" The waitress seethed, prodding her finger into Peggy's chest. "Scarlett is as loyal as they come." _Unlike you_... remained unspoken.

"I'm sorry." Peggy reluctantly backed down. The stiff slope of her shoulders softening.

"Sayin' sorry ain't gonna cut it--"

"Angie," Scarlett interrupted, trying to rein in her own anger. "Listen... I didn't mean to snap my cap. I can kinda see how this musta looked," The New Yorker sighed, running a hand over her strong jaw. "Joyce is always telling me to think first. Instead of divin' in with my fists."

Even with her own anger ready to reach boiling point, Angie paused. Taking a breath. This wasn't Scarlett's fight and for a fraction of a second her heavy heart, seemed lighter at her friends display of loyalty. With a small - warm smile, she excepted her unspoken apology. The guilt clouding Scarlett's eyes fading.

"I shouldn't have lost my temper either," Peggy stated, looking a little like a kicked puppy. A look Angie was familiar with. Namely, whenever Peggy assured her, that tonight she would be home on time. While the roast dinner, Angie had spent all afternoon perfecting - ended up burnt to a crisp because the agent was late. _Another broken promise._

Peggy's display of remorse should make Angie feel a sort of smug satisfaction, but it didn't.

"Though in my defence, I knew you could handle yourself, as it would appear I'm not the only one who served in the war. You had your Wings, with the WASPs. Very honourable."

_Wait. What? She wouldn't?_

  
"Yeah," the bar owner frowned. "Angie told ya that huh?"

"Something like that."

"Geeze, we all flew over 60 million miles delivering every type of military aircraft to the boys," Scarlett told her. "Sometimes I can still feel the juddering power of the P-47 Thunderbolt under my fingertips."

"Yes. Some things stay with you," Peggy gave a curt nod. "You never quite forget."

"Yeah. Well, it's time for me to fly " _the Army way_ " and be out of here," Scarlett nodded to Angie, heading to her bedroom to get dressed. "Give you gals a chance to talk."

Once Scarlett was out of earshot, Angie turned to her lover with fury ablaze in her blue eyes. "Did you run some kinda back ground check on her?" She hissed in a whisper, pulling Peggy closer to her in her anger. "How is that even possible? You know what - I don't even wanna know how."

"Angie I--"

"I can't believe you," the actress sighed, absently casting her gaze over Peggy's body. Noticing for the first time Peggy's own untidy appearance.

A thousand thoughts flew through her mind at once: _Isn't Peggy doing her laundry? Didn't she have that blouse on yesterday? Isn't Mr Fancy back from LA with her? Is she even sleeping? Those dark circles, remaining under her eyes say different. Could she actually regret what she has done?_

_No. You have to be strong._

  
"Is that how you knew where to find me?" Angie sighed, stepping back. Her heart beat still felt like it was slamming against her rib cage with every single beat in Peggy's all-encompassing presence.

"I followed you home from work yesterday," Peggy sighed, taking a measured step closer. "You really need to be more careful Angie."

"Well, I didn't think my crazy ex _spy_ girlfriend would be lurkin' in the shadows!"

"Ex? I don't remember us calling it a day?" Peggy noted, her eyes carefully scanning her surroundings.

"Always checkin' for a way out huh?" Angie scoffed. "Somethings never change."

"No. I wasn't..."

"Or what? You too good for a small place like this now?" Angie uttered with sarcasm, rounding in on the agent. "It may not be the Ritz, but this place is an actual home. Full of love, from two people who actually care for each other--"

Angie's angry tirade was cut short by the feeling of Peggy's callused palm wrapping around her wrist. The fractured air between them seem to ignite. Brown eyes locked with blue and Angie trembled under the weight of her touch. Trembled with the onslaught of emotions that rocked through her. Trembled, because despite the feeling of all the hurt and bitterness. She still loved her.

"I in fact noticed, that there only appears to be one bedroom, and I know how you hate sleeping on the sofa." Peggy spoke so softly, that it sounded more like a whisper to Angie's ears. "Come home, darling. Where we can start again. Where I can begin to make things right."

  
The sudden rasp of Scarlett's voice, jolted Angie back into the moment and away from Peggy.

"I'm headin' to Tony's," Scarlett announced. "You stayin' for breakfast Peggy?" She asked, throwing on her coat.

"Well, yes. I'd lik--"

"No. Urm... She ain't stayin' long." Angie shook her head, the hopeful look fading from Peggy's face.

With a nod, the New Yorker was out of the door. Leaving deafening silence, behind her.

  
"I... went to the Automat first, but they informed me that it was your day off. Your schedule must have changed."

Angie retrieved her abandoned - cold coffee, and took a long sip. "Save it," she exhaled. "Don't pretend to suddenly give a damn about me. You weren't takin' too much interest a few weeks ago."

"I thought about you everyday. There wasn't a moment that passed by when I wasn't thinking of you," Peggy implored.

"You expect me to believe that?" Angie slammed the cup down so hard against the counter, she was surprised it didn't break. "I think we can skip all the meaningless excuses, don't you. Let's be honest for a change. I was always second on your list of priorities. It may have stung a little, but I get why I came second to Steve. That I learn't to deal with. I even learned to live with the fact that I also come second after your job. But I will not let myself be second to **HIM**. To Agent _Suzie_ or whatever he's called."

  
"Y-You honestly believe that?"

"Whatever." Angie dismissed, pouring herself a fresh coffee. Praying that the eagle-eyed agent didn't notice how the pot shook in her hand.

"No. You may be angry with me and for good reason, but you can not say all those things to me and expect me not to retaliate." Peggy ran her hands through her loose curls, before letting them fall defeatedly by her side. "I've mucked up. I know this. And I'm sorry that I've pulled myself down from the pedestal that you've placed me on, but I never said I was perfect Angie. Far from it."

"I never asked ya to be perfect." Angie's tone became more softer than she intended.

"Darling please. I... I am so sorry. I'll say it a thousand times if that's what it takes for you to believe me."

"What are ya actually sorry for, Peggy? For stringing two guys along at once or for gettin' involved with me in the first place."

Peggy fell into stunned silence. A deep frown creasing her brow, as her throat bobbed.

"Oh, ya didn't know I knew about the _science guy_   did ya?"

" **Howard**." Peggy seethed, with realization. "I find the confession a bit rich, coming from him. Considering his own infidelity and all."

"Don't blame him for having the decency to tell me the truth," Angie folded her arms across her chest, with a jerk of her chin.

"He has no right to meddle in my private life and more importantly _our_ relationship."

"This isn't about Howard. So leave him and your punches out of it."

Peggy let out a humorless chuckle, crossing her own arms in defiance. Mirroring Angie's stance. "What? You think I'm going to hit him? Well, you wouldn't be wrong. You'd better hurry though. Tip him off, so he at least has the chance to hide behind your skirt as cover first."

"Have you heard yourself? Howard is the least of our worries right now."

"You're right..." The brunette sighed defeated. Rubbing her fingertips harshly against her temple. "I keep making mistake after mistake lately."

The couple glanced at each other, another stilled silence falling between them.

  
"Were you ever planning to tell me about that other kiss?"

"I was."

Angie wanted to believe her, but the gnawing at her gut had her believing otherwise.

"How long have you known?" Peggy asked, before another word could be uttered.

"Long enough," Angie shrugged, suddenly feeling like she needed a break from this intense discussion. From all this push and pull and back biting. "Scarlett will be home soon, so..." She knew it was a flimsy excuse, but she didn't want to keep fighting. She was emotionally exhausted enough as it was.

"I'll leave, but first you must agree to have dinner with me." Peggy exclaimed, her tone sincere - though said with enough authority to know that ' _no_ ' wasn't an option.

"Why?"

"So we can talk. Alone, and we both know this place isn't ideal for an uninterrupted heart-to-heart."

Maybe. Just maybe. Angie tells herself, that this meal can be a final end to it. Too them. It'll hurt. Most likely haunt her forever. To know that they didn't make it. That Peggy threw it all away, the moment things got hard for her. That she'll have to say goodbye - That thought alone felt like a heavy stone sinking to the pit of her stomach. But she needed closure and if Peggy was offering that, then she would except.

"Please Angie."

  
"You ain't gonna give up until I agree are ya?" Angie sighed. Allowing herself a moment to bask in the look of joy lighting up Peggy's eyes.

"You mean, you'll come?" Peggy beamed.

"Yeah."

"Yes? Um... Well, wonderful. I'll pick you up here tomorrow. 7 o'clock." Peggy couldn't mask her grin, as she made her way to the front door. Lingering slightly, until Angie waved her hand dismissively.

"Sure Peggy. I'll be here."

"Until tomorrow, darling."

 

_I can do this. I can say goodbye to her. Right?_

 

 

 

-

#BringbackCartinelli.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 40s Slang.
> 
> \-- Snap my cap - Get angry. --  
> \--  
> The WASPs (Women Airforce Service Pilots) were women pilots of World War 2. The group of brave gals flew military aircraft for the United States Army Air Forces. x


	11. Satisfy my soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy is really trying to get through to Angie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter has taken so long to post, but I haven't given up on the story. I adore Angie & Pegs too much for that. I was doubting my own writing skills. I hope you enjoy the new chapter and thanks for reading it. :D

**All or Nothing at All.**

 

 

Angie had paced the same strip of sidewalk ten times, while she waited for Peggy to arrive. Three spent cigarette butts at her feet, were proof enough of her nerves. The constant swirling of her stomach was another matter. She contemplated lighting one more, but the decision was made for her when a black Cadillac convertible pulled up in front of her. Room enough inside for several passengers.

One of Howard's latest purchases, she assumed.

What she had not been expecting was for Peggy to exit the vehicle. Mr. Fancy, sure, as he always _played_ the part of the chauffeur. But this wasn't how the scene had played out in her head, and she'd given this moment a lot of thought. She hadn't counted on Peggy dressed up to the nines, looking completely out of place against the back drop of the run down building.

"Hello darling." Peggy sauntered forward. The red silk material of her dress fitting like a second skin, hugging every curve deliciously. There could be no mistake that Peggy was out to impress, and even Angie couldn't deny - she looked beautiful.

_Who I am kiddin'? Pegs is always beautiful._

  
"You look breathtaking this evening," Peggy complemented, stepping even closer to place a tender kiss on Angie's cheek - causing the waitress to jolt out of her seeming reverie. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of seeing you in this dress before?"

Angie wondered if her heart should be beating this fast? Perhaps it was fear or maybe adrenalin? She couldn't be sure.

"I borrowed it from Joyce," Angie shuffled back, needing to breathe air that didn't carry the scent of Peggy's sweet perfume. "We should get going. We ain't really dressed for this side of town." She hurried past her and into the awaiting Cadillac.

"Certainly."

  
It felt strange to be in Peggy's company again after months of being apart. It would be so easy for Angie to forget. Pretend that this could be just another heroes welcome, but it wasn't. Everything between them felt tainted now. Every moment that Angie held dear was being seen in a new light. Maybe it hadn't meant as much to Peggy as it did to her? It would crush her to hear the truth, but she'd had enough of Peggy's white lies. She needed absolute honesty from the agent, and during this so-called dinner - she intended to get it.

Peggy however, was filling their journey with pointless small talk. Angie knew for a fact that Peggy hated mindless chitter-chatter. Not that Angie could blame her completely. The tension between them was stifling, and talk of Angie's favourite team the Brooklyn Dodgers only seem to make it more unbearable.

"As much as I wanna hear about Pee Wee Reese; where are we going?" Angie muttered sarcastically, arms folded across her chest.

Peggy's eyes glanced over at her before she focused again on the road ahead. "Howard has loaned us another one of his gilded apartments for the evening." Her tone holding as much bite as Angie's only seconds ago. The waitress knew the anger wasn't directed at her, it was for their moustache wearing buddy.

"You've forgiven him then?" Angie asked curiously, straightening herself from the slouched position she was in. "Because yesterday sounded like a different story?"

"Well, I didn't have much choice in the matter did I?" Peggy tapped her fingers harshly on the large white stirring wheel. "You made your feelings very clear about giving our dear friend a bloody nose."

Despite herself, Angie couldn't help the titter of laughter that escaped her throat. Sarcastic Peggy was always something to behold.

"I must say, I'd rather missed that laugh of yours," the agent seemed pleased with Angie's reaction. Peggy's own shoulders loosening. A dazzling smile forming on her full red painted lips. "Part of me wondered if i'd ever hear it again."

The hope in the brunette's voice left Angie feeling disarmed.

She had a plan. One, she deemed foolproof - She would hear Peggy out. Find out the real reason why Peggy had done this, and finally, harden her heart.

Let Peggy go.

 

Then why did she feel like her heart had burst open with what she had refused to even acknowledge: Hope.

It flooded her body with a sense of longing. With an emptiness that only Peggy could ever fill.

What if Peggy was telling the truth? What if she wanted to try again? That she was genuinely sorry?

  
Her mind whirled and for now she had no clear answers.

  
For the rest of their journey, Angie remained silent.

  
"We're here." Peggy's calm voice informed her a short time later. The sound of honking horns faintly playing off in the distance.

Fifth Avenue.

A place Angie had come to know well over the years. Gone were the days where young Angie would pout out her bottom lip, trying to convince Teresa that they should spend their Saturday afternoons there - roaming the streets just to catch a glimpse of all the fancy dames wearing furs and seeming not to have a care in the world. A far cry from the worry worn expression etched permanently onto her Ma's kindhearted face.

Ever since Angie could remember, she had dreams. Ambitions, that one day she would be a big broadway star and she herself would own one of those swanky apartments. Prove to everyone back in Brooklyn that she didn't just have her head in the clouds. That she had real talent and could make something of herself. That she could get by on her own without a band of gold wrapped around her finger.

She couldn't help but reminisce...

_"I'm gonna be one of those dames someday," Angie would daydream with a determined nod. "Live in one of those big fancy looking skyscrapers. You'll see."_

_"Really?" Teresa had scoffed, her worn shoes scuffing at the ground under her feet. "I figure those broads are stuck up. You don't wannabe like that, Martinelli."_

_"But I'd keep my feet on the ground."_

_"You'd better." Teresa smiled so sincere - that Angie couldn't help but glow with pride, under her best friends gaze. Behind all of Teresa's standoffish humor regarding her glittering dreams - The girl truly believed in her. Teresa knew Angie had enough guts to at least try. Even if she_ failed _and ended up working two jobs back in Brooklyn - Angie could always say at least she had tried._

_And belief in someone went a long way._

_"You wanna move in there with me?" Angie asked, meaning every word._

_Teresa's burst of laughter had been loud and warm. "Yeah, your rich husband would love that." Her eyes twinkled - her shoulder playfully bumping against Angie's._

_"I don't need no rich wise guy. I'll make my own money," Angie hitched her thumb towards her own chest. "So, ya wanna?"_

_"Why not, Martinelli. Why not."_

  
Life had a funny way of working out in the end.

  
"Angie?" Peggy called her back to the here and now. "I said we're here."

"Yeah," Angie nodded, turning to face Peggy. Now wasn't the time for memories of old. "Back around these parts huh?" She shrugged, her tone almost wistful. "I guess we ain't grabbing a hot sweet potato from a cart, in the lower east side then are we?" Her retort sounded less sarcastic than she intended.

"I much prefer the red hot frankfurters myself." Peggy beamed, cutting the engine with a turn of the key.

"Ain't you forgetting the ice cold orange soda pops?" Angie smiled - In spite of herself.

"You know me so well, darling." Peggy was practically giddy, stepping out of the Cadillac.

Before another flutter of laughter could leave her chest - Angie snapped her mouth closed. This was starting to feel a little like one of their date nights, and the waitress could not allow herself to slip back into their usual routine.

She needed to keep her focus. She needed not to feel so confused. She needed... a drink.

  
"I hope you're hungry?" Peggy smiled, once they had stepped out of the private elevator.

The honey-blonde didn't get a chance to reply, before the penthouse door swung open at the end of the long golden gilded corridor. Where Mr Fancy stood waiting, ready to greet them. With a flowered cotton pinny - apron wrapped around his slender waist, and a large mixing bowl tucked in the crook of his arm. Painting the picture of a some-what perfect host.

"Ahh, welcome Miss Carter," Jarvis gave a curt nod. "And may I say, it is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Martinelli." He smiled leading the two ladies inside. "I'm afraid I am running a little behind schedule with the Crème brûlée. Miss Carter arrived earlier than I had anticipated, but a good butler is always prepared for anything."

"Especially if you happen to work for Howard Stark." Peggy jibed, navigating her way around the apartment with ease.

"Quite." Jarvis replied.

The conversation to Angie became nothing more than static noise once she had caught sight of the romantic setting laid out before her. An elegant red rose bouquet was pride of place as the tables centrepiece. The eight-branch candelabra lined the far end of the large oak dining table - the flicker of the candles flames cast the perfect mood lighting.

Everything seemed ideal to the naked eye, but Angie knew that it wasn't. Scratch the surface, and this moment would reveal itself for what it truly was: hollow.

How could anything about their love ever be whole now that Peggy had broken it so completely apart?

  
The hand placed softly against her lower back, caused the waitress to jolt. "Please take a seat, darling and I'm sure Mr Jarvis won't mind pouring us a drink?" Peggy gave a soft smile, holding out the chair for her lover.

"It would be my honor," the tall Brit crossed the room taking two large strides over to the nearby drinks cabinet. "At Miss Carter's request I have a bottle of the finest peach Schnapps--"

"You got anythin' else?" Angie was quick to cut him off. She'd made herself a promise - that she wasn't going to touch Schnapps again and she intended to keep it.

Jarvis smiled at the Brooklyner from over his shoulder. "Mr Stark always keeps an impressive array of beverages, Miss Martinelli. We have wine. Champagne. And a rather lovely malt Scotch if I do say so myself."

"Yeah. Fine. That. Hold the ice." She waved a dismissive hand.

"Scotch?" Peggy raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. The shock evident on her face. "Since when do you drink such strong alcohol?"

It was true. Before all this had happened - Angie had only ever drank the stuff when it had been heavily diluted with soda. This last week had been a different story. One she didn't want Peggy to have the privilege of knowing.

"Dutch courage, as they say." The half truth rolled easy enough over her tongue.

"Angie, you never have to feel nervous around me," Peggy placed her hand closer to Angie's own resting on the table. Unsure if her touch would be welcomed. Her voice lowering to almost a whisper - so only Angie could hear. "I was hoping tonight would give us a chance to really talk things through. A chance for me to start making amends, and put things right between us. That's all I care about."

The hopeful starlet glanced down at Peggy's hand. She thought how easy it would be just to reach out - ground herself like she use to do in her gals touch.

Her fingers moved closer, until Mr Fancy placed down the two drinks. "I must say, Miss Carter did a marvellous job of setting the table. She wouldn't even let me lend her a helping hand." He spoke as if almost to himself - unaware of the moment he'd interrupted.

"I just wanted everything to be perfect," Peggy brushed off the praise. "And for that to happen it meant me going nowhere near the kitchen area."

"Pfftt! I can count on one hand the amount of times she ever did anything like this back at home." Angie scoffed into the rim of her whisky tumbler glass. Hoping the slight was enough to cover her moment of emotional weakness.

Only the sound of Mr Jarvis clearing his throat at the sudden tense atmosphere - stopped her from downing the amber liquid in one big gulp.

"Soup!" He suddenly exclaimed. "The perfect starter to any meal. On the menu today we have two different options to choose from. We have beef goulash. It's a traditional Hungarian stew with smoked paprika. Or one of Mr Stark's favourites: clam chowder. Served with an extra helping of bread. I even took the liberty to acquire some Italian homebread that you like so much from Mulberry Street bakery." He smiled warmly at his guests.

"The chowder is fine, thanks."

"Yes, Mr Jarvis. I'll take the chowder too."

"Splendid," the English man nodded once. His jaw working soundlessly for a moment - considering his next words with caution. "Before this evening can truly begin... I rather feel I owe you an apology, Miss Martinelli," Jarvis bowed his head, before his gaze returned to Angie's. "As a butler I try to pride myself on knowing what one needs before they even request it, but my observational skills have rather let me down on this occassion."

"Mr. Jarvis, don't you have supper to attend too?" Peggy flashed him such a look, that Angie was surprised that he hadn't turned to stone.

"No. Go on, let the man finish." Angie looked between them.

"Perhaps if I had been made aware of the full extent of your relationship with Miss Carter," Jarvis tugged at his necktie not in his usual graceful manner - a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. "Then I would have never encouraged her to remain in LA, nor would I have ever pushed her towards Agent Sousa. For that I can only offer my sincerest apologies--"

"That's quite enough, Mr. Jarvis." Peggy interrupted. Her tone much like her resolve - sounding ready to snap.

"The extent of our relationship?" Angie repeated incredulously.

"Mr. Jarvis, can we just get on with the bloody dinner!"

Whatever the Brit was going to utter next, he decided against it. Closing his mouth, before offering a curt nod. "I'll go and serve the soup."

"Suddenly, I ain't really feelin' hungry." Angie dismissed, taking a large sip of the expensive drink.

Just hearing that name. His name. Made her feel sick to her stomach.

  
Angie knew that Peggy was her own woman, and some gentle nudging from anyone - let alone Mr Jarvis, would not have stopped Peggy from continuing what she had set out to do, but the waitress still felt betrayed. She had always considered Mr Fancy a pal. And heck, if Howard had their relationship sussed, then surely Jarvis knew that they weren't a flash in the pan as they say.

She knew her gal wasn't a big talker, and kept her emotions close to her chest. But it hurt to think that Peggy had never mentioned - not even in passing to the butler just how serious their romance was.

Did Jarvis think it was just some fleeting courtship? Or worse, did he believe it was some casual roommate bunk-up?

Her cheeks flushed with shame at the very notion. Just what kind of woman did Jarvis think she was?

 

"Mr Jarvis, I think we'll both skip the starter and go for the main meal." Peggy sighed, never taking her gaze from Angie.

"Very well Miss Carter." He turned, heading for the kitchen.

  
"Does he really need to be here?" Angie shrugged, finishing off what was left in her glass. There were just too many emotions to process, and she didn't have the strength for Mr Fancy's unintentional - backhanded judgement.

"I can assure you that he won't interrupt us again," Peggy flashed a kind smile. "And after all is said and done, Angie. He is still our loyal friend." Peggy placed her palm over Angie's hand - who in turn flinched away, as if the touch had scalded her.

"From where I'm sittin' he ain't been no friend of mine." Angie huffed like a petulant child, rising to her feet to refill her empty glass.

"If it makes you more comfortable, I will ask him to leave," Peggy tried to placate her. "I'm certain that I can serve this meal so long as it's been already cooked." Peggy attempted humor to try and salvage the rest of the evening, but Angie made it clear she was in no mood to laugh or even smile.

"Do whatever you want. Just like you always do." Angie huffed, pouring herself a healthy measure of Scotch. All too aware of the agents eyes tracking her movements.

With a sigh, Peggy does as requested and soon enough they are alone.

The lamb dinner Jarvis had prepared sat untouched by both occupants of the table. All of Angie's attention was focused on the contents of her glass, while Peggy filled the awkward silence.

  
"You were still with me you know." Peggy pushed aside her plate, touching the gold circular disc she wore around her neck. "Protecting me every step of the way."

"The necklace I got ya for your birthday?" She arched her eyebrow - noticing the piece of jewellery for the first time this evening.

"Yes," Peggy showcased it proudly. "I never once took it off. I liked having you close."

"Right. Yeah," came Angie's clipped reply. Her drinking glass meeting the table with a thud. "I was just your little dumb Dora keeping house for ya back home. I get it."

The rub Peggy gave to her temples spoke volumes to the waitress. The agent was on the verge on losing her usual cool - calm exterior.

 

_'Finally we're getting somewhere. No pretendin'. No acts. Just us.'_

  
"You're mad at me, and rightfully so, but we can't keep going round in circles. It is getting us nowhere."

"Fine!" Angie's arms crossed over her chest. The sound of her own rapidly beating heart reverberating in her ears. "I asked you Peggy. When you made a passing comment about _Suzie_ or whatever his name is, not returning your calls. I teased you, remember? I said, _should I be worried?_ and you reassured me, you said, _no, darling he is only a friend_. You said that and you lied."

"I didn't lie and he was only a friend," the piercing look the honey-blonde flashed at the English woman did nothing to silence her, as Peggy's soothing voice turned almost pleading. "Angie, you're acting like it was some great love affair. It wasn't. It was one kiss."

"One kiss?" Angie scoffed, the reasurrances falling on deaf ears. "Drop the act, I think your cards have already been laid on the table. He's in love with you!"

"He..." She trailed off. Clenching her fist beside her in frustration.

"He what? Made you feel good, by giving you attention because he is an agent like you. Not some dumb waitress who goes all doe-eyed for ya, even if you so much as sneeze? Did he make you feel important letting you run around with the big boys? Because God knows how degrading it is to be made to just pour coffee all day right? Waiting tables is such a drag huh?"

"Angie, no! Stop putting words into my mouth. It wasn't like--"

"What? Now you're gonna tell me it wasn't like that? Because fuck that and you. I was there for you when they pushed you around and made you feel like nothin' and I never thought for a single second that one day you would do that to me, but as you always say Peggy, you never really know what someone is capable of."

"I called you."

"That's all you've got?" Angie balked. "Miss mega spy and that's the best you can come up with? Geeze you're slippin' Agent Carter, maybe all that California sun has baked your brain." The snark was soon followed by a mirthless chuckle from the hopeful starlet.

"Stop it!" Peggy's voice faltered, while her hand slammed down against the table - causing the empty wine glasses to rattle. "Just stop it."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" Angie unfolded her arms. She could tell Peggy was close to tears, but that didn't stop more bitter words from flowing out of her mouth. She too was hurting. "You were to busy playin' hero to Mr. Science guy and Agent _Suzie_. To take notice of the people who really care for ya!"

"Angie, you're well aware that being at the heart of a mission is like my life blood, and for that I won't apologize it's who I am. It's who you fell for, but I am so very sorry that I've hurt you." Peggy once again tried in vain to reach for Angie's hand - only to have the girl leave her seat and pour herself another drink.

From behind her at the drinks cabinet, Angie could hear Peggy steel herself with a sigh before she too got to her feet. The pretense of the meal long forgotten.

"I don't love him, Angie. In spite of what you may believe. I don't."

This information or perhaps revelation - should make her feel relieved, but it doesn't. The weight pressing down on her shoulders feels just as heavy as it did before. The hollowed out shell of her heart has not magically started to piece its self back together. She's still just as broken as she was moments before. It's a double-edged sword, because if Peggy doesn't love him - then why did she kiss him?

Peggy falling in love with someone else might be easier than the real truth that Angie fears is behind Peggy's reasoning. Maybe the simple fact of it all is that Angie is not enough?

 _'I'll never be good enough for her.'_   Her fear echoes inside of her head.

  
"I made a mistake. Angie, please let me put this right. I need you to let me put this right."

"I don't gotta do nothin'. I owe you nothin'." Angie sneared, fighting back her own tears, as Peggy placed her hand against her shoulder. A warm palm moving slowly against her slender back.

"Angie?" Her soft voice imploring - seeking. Needing Angie's forgiveness.

"You're the one who did this Peggy. You're the one who stopped callin'. You're the one who left me behind."

Soft painted lips then pressed a kiss to Angie's small quivering shoulder. "I couldn't put you in harm's way, darling. I had to protect you--"

"I've heard it all before," Angie's whispered tone turned to steel, pulling herself away from the warm embrace she desperately craved. "These tired excuses. I've heard them all Peggy."

"It isn't an excuse," Peggy exhaled, her temper sounding ready to fray. "I know I've hurt you, but you seemed eager to retaliate - running to that bloody bar the first chance you got. And we both know why you went there. I suppose little miss perfect, Dolores was more than willing to lend you a sympathetic ear."

"What!? You accuse me of cheatin'? When you were the one wantin' to spread ya legs easy enough in LA!" Angie spat with all the rage and venom she could muster.

Seconds later, she regretted it. Once the hate filled words left her mouth, she couldn't take them back.

Before her, Peggy's whole body froze. Angie watched on helplessly. Never before had she seen a look of absolute devastation ghost across the agent's eyes. Time around them seem to fracture, until Angie felt the sting of Peggy's palm strike her across the face.

The force of the blow, caused Angie's head to whip to the side. With a stunned gasp, she instinctively grabbed her face where a red welt blossomed under her fingertips.

"Angie I--" but Peggy didn't get the chance to finish.

Every reflex in her body told Angie to retaliate, and that's exactly what she did. Her small frame launched forward, the driving motion caused Peggy to stumble backwards.

"Angie, forgive me. I shouldn't have struck you. I--" Peggy pleaded, but Angie couldn't bare the intensity of her pitiful sorry stare for a moment longer.

"You!" She seethed, pushing her once again. " _You!_ " She repeated curling both fists into a ball, raining them down onto Peggy's chest. "I hate you! I hate you!" Her hands shook - voice quivering.

Peggy grabbed hold of her wrists instantly and with ease. The agent pulled Angie's whole body forward, pressing her closely against her chest. Bringing her lips to Angie's in a searing kiss.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-- 1940's Slang Words --  
> \-- Dumb Dora - a stupid female. --


	12. Wouldn't want to see you crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie keeps her anger at bay for long enough to hear Peggy out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I just want to thank you all for the lovely comments last chapter, they really made me smile. You really made my writers heart very happy. I've been a little unsure about this chapter, although Angie needs to listen to Peggy eventually. Things are moving forward, slowly, but they are. I hope you enjoy...

**All or Nothing at All.**

 

 

The force of Peggy's kiss was all heat and hunger.

A desire been starved.

  
Angie felt powerless. Overwhelmed with the sensation of Peggy being so intimately close after so long. She remained still. Frozen in place. Her lips unresponsive, until the neurons began to start firing in her brain again. Forcing her to take a step back, concern reeling in Peggy's eyes.

After everything, Peggy shouldn't be able to render her defenceless, but she does.

If Angie really wanted to walk away - to end this, perhaps this would be the best time to do so. Isn't that why she agreed to the dinner in the first place? To tell her in no uncertain terms that there was no going back. That there wouldn't be an easy solution for mending the trust Peggy decided to break. Instead, Angie found herself doing none of those things. The anger she always felt within her these days, finally seemed to consume her. Igniting a fire in her belly.

A moth to Peggy's brightly burning flame; she reached forward without hesitation, connecting their lips with an ardent kiss of her own.

Her message clear.

She wanted this. Wanted to feel something... anything other than total helplessness, the betrayal had left her with. To forget her anguish. Take solace using her body, because clearly offering her heart hadn't been enough.

Perhaps the press of bare skin could be?

 

Soon soft caressing lips turned almost punishing. Hard in the agony of her love for this woman who had changed her so completely.

  
If Peggy was startled by Angie's sudden turnaround. She doesn't show it. The agent meets her head on with kiss after heated kiss.

"Angie." Peggy whispered breathlessly, her hands finding purchase on Angie's slender hips. The gentle motion, guiding her towards one of the many bedrooms. "Angie?" She repeated, chasing her lover's lips that were stained red from Peggy's own.

Now wasn't the time for words. The hopeful starlet didn't want her agent's sweet sounding declarations. She needed Peggy to do what she was most good at. What she thrived on... action.

This wasn't the time for seduction.

 

"Are you sure?" Peggy questioned anyway, her hungry brown eyes searching blue for any sign of doubt.

The answer Angie gave was in the form of another demanding kiss. Her arms encircling Peggy's neck, as her back hit the door. While a strong hand fumbled in haste to turn the faceted glass door knob. Together they made their way over to the foot of the grand four-poster bed, their lips locked in an open-mouthed kiss.

"God, Angie," Peggy exhaled, head thrown back in a desperate attempt to get more air. "What you do to me."

Angie only pressed herself even closer, nuzzling her nose along the column of her gals elegant throat. Her lungs alight with the aroma that was so uniquely Peggy. The scent of roses, with just the faintest hint of shoe polish. It made Angie want to keep Peggy near for as long as she possibly could, before this fog had chance to clear. Before everything would return to how it was.

For now her regrets could wait.

  
Angie did not hesitate when she reached for the small zipper on the side of Peggy's dress. Her fingers helping the soft material to fall from Peggy's shoulders, to land pooled at the agent's feet. Blue eyes waste no time roaming the shapely form before her, and the unfamiliar scar on her lover's lower abdomen - another to add to the vast collection that had already accumulated on Peggy's war-worn body.

A shiver ran the length of her spine, when Peggy returned the favour. Red tipped nails freeing the waitresses frame of her own dress. Eager hands moving down to her garter belt, squeezing a slender thigh with a barely concealed moan.

The air felt heavy.

Thicker, once all clothes are shed and Angie's back is against the soft goose feathered comforter. The younger woman revels in the moment when Peggy's familiar weight encases her. Causing the burning desire in her stomach to fall lower. The feeling however soon becomes too stifling, and with all her strength she flips the willing agent over, until she is on top.

Peggy held the reins in almost every aspect of her life. Today Angie wanted the control.

"No." Angie commanded, as her hips begin to undulate.

The broken-hearted waitress wasn't seeking the delicate affection Peggy would offer. She needed raw emotion. She needed her lover writhing under her.

  
Time seemed to still. A fractured moment paused, for every shattered piece to be seen clearly.

 

Their love making all unyielding touches and driving fingers. Nails scratched down Angie's back, while Peggy's hair had been sharply tugged, causing a gasp of delight for her efforts. The honey-blonde moving her kiss swollen lips along the brunette's neck, suckling on her throbbing pulse point until Peggy let out a deep guttural moan. Her brown eyes fluttering, due to the feeling of overwhelming pleasure.

"Angie! Mmm _Angie_." Peggy panted at the height of her climax. Her chest heaving under each tender kiss from Angie, wanting to bring her lover down from her high.

  
With a breathless exhale of her own, Angie simply stared down at the disheveled lover beneath her. She'd never looked more stunning to Angie. Her skin flushed, painted pink under loving hands. Her deep brown eyes still blown to almost black from the fading thrill. Though, the longer she continued to stare, the more she felt like the walls were closing in on her. It all felt too much.

It felt too much like forgiveness. Like words not yet spoken.

 

I _don't think I can do this._

 

Was she really ready to forgive her?

  
It was the sigh of contentment from Peggy that made her freeze. That caused the waitress to roll beside her. Her heart playing a hummingbirds rhythm.

"Darling?" Peggy scooted closer, her nose pressed against Angie's warm neck. Her lips followed with yearning kisses, the softness of the action made Angie pull away, and sit up.

"You think just because we've fucked, that you're forgiven?"

Peggy blinked. "I... No, but I thought it could be a start."

"Is that how you made it up to _him_?" Angie bit. The seething rage underlining her tone, clear to hear. "For making him wait, for what? A year? For you to finally return his pitiful advances?"

Peggy bit her bottom lip, as her eyes filled with tears. "I can take it," she nodded almost resolute. "I can take your anger Angie, but to answer your question. No. We only shared one kiss, as I've already told you. I know that doesn't excuse my behaviour."

Angie could feel her own tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Every floodgate she had kept firmly closed, suddenly felt like bursting open, and now wasn't the time for her river of tears.

"Oh, my love?" Peggy quickly wrapped the discarded white silk sheet around her lover's trembling shoulders. Angie was certain that Peggy could feel the tension pouring out of her in waves, as she held her.

Angie merely sniffed, using the back of her hand to quickly stop the flow of tears. She really didn't want to cry. Once she started she feared she would never stop. "M'sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have said that stuff."

"No. You shouldn't, although apology accepted."

They both let their gaze linger until Angie broke the quiet spell. "You wanna tell me how you got that?" Angie pointed to the brunette's still quivering stomach. Peggy always did take a little time to catch her breath after lovemaking. Angie had teased her in the past, making playful jibes regarding her gals stamina. Peggy responded with the same reply everytime. That sex for her was more visceral. A place where her mind and body were free. For a few precious hours, she could give herself freely without the mantle of being an agent.

Angie understood and was grateful for the mercy that Peggy hadn't shared this intimacy with _that_ guy.

 

"Whitney Frost." Came Peggy's reply to the asked question.

Angie raised her brow. "Whitney Frost did that to you?"

Peggy nodded.

"Zero-matter I take it?"

"How did...?" Peggy did not finish her thought, only pausing for a second to take a deep breath. "Howard told you didn't he?"

"Yeah," Angie found herself nodding now. "What happened, and this time I want the truth."

When Peggy grabbed hold of her hand, she let her. The warmth radiating from Peggy's palm felt nice. It seem to ward off her ire for now, so she let it be.

"Well, long story short. She tried to kill me with zero-matter during a skirmish," Peggy squeezed her hand tighter when she felt Angie flinch at her words. "Don't worry, I head butted her, followed by a swift kick to the gut to gain back the upper hand. The motion however caused me to go crashing backwards through an old guard rail. And Ms. Frost certainly wasn't getting rid of me that easy. I managed to catch hold of the ledge... that was until that wretched woman started to leer over me. Whatever she had planned, I did not want to give her the satisfaction. So, I let go and got impaled."

"You did what?" Angie tugged her hand away, her blue eyes burning with rage. "How can you be so blasé, Peggy? You could have been killed!"

Peggy actually had the nerve to smirk at her own little spitfire. "For someone who claims to hate me. It sounds an awful lot to me like you care."

"That's what you're taking from this?" Angie threw her hands up in the air. "You nearly died and you're here grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Your stubborn pride could have got you killed. Did you ever stop and think about that?" She continued to rant, not even giving her gal a chance to reply. "I take it you took her down? Since you're here and all?"

"Yes. We stopped her."

"I'm guessin' that story about Whitney going to the crazy house in all those movie rags, is a cover up?"

Peggy shook her head, letting out a gentle sigh. "No. The zero-matter substance actually sent her mad. She's currently residing in an asylum, where she can no longer inflict any harm."

  
This information was a lot for her to take in. It was like something from one of her brother's comic books. Super soldiers she could understand, but space goop turning Hollywood royalty into loonies was something else. However, she could think about that later, the only thing Angie needed to concentrate on right now was Peggy. 

 

_At least she's finally being honest._

  
"Who patched you up?" Angie asked. "Cause I know Miss Classified ain't gonna go to no hospital, and Mr Fancy may be good with a needle, but even he ain't that good."

The agent faltered for the first time, looking away before catching Angie's eye. Her brown eyes twinkling with a look of recognition that told Angie, she was indeed correct. "Violet. A nurse... Daniel's umm fiancée actually."

"Wow, Okay. You are somethin' else." Angie got to her feet, letting the sheet fall to the ground out of shock at this new piece of information. Not only did Peggy cast aside her feelings, but she also kissed the fiancé of the woman who had saved her life.

_What had Pegs been thinking?_

  
"No, it wasn't like that," Peggy followed suit. Picking up the abandoned sheet to wrap around herself like some flowing toga. "Nothing had happened between us then, and they were over by the time we kissed."

Angie sighed, suddenly feeling very naked under Peggy's pleading stare. "Guess I wasn't the only gal who got stung." Angie said making her way over to the large dresser, pulling open the first drawer looking for something to wear. Finding one of Howard's button ups, she put it on. The material baggy on her small frame. She jumped when she felt Peggy cup her cheek softly, trying to gain her attention once more.

"Darling, do you know what was going through my mind when I fell... trapped with a piece of twisted metal through my abdomen?"

Angie shook her head.

"You. That I might never see your smile again. I thought of no one but you, and I guess that I'm my own worst enemy, because when I was recovering... instead of calling you like I wanted, I didn't. I longed to hear your voice, but I still never called. I told myself if something happened to me while trying to save the world from Whitney Frost, that it would be better for you just to forget me."

"You can't decide that for me Peggy."

"I was wrong. I realise now that I need you far more than you'll ever likely need me darling."

Angie ran her fingers through her hair with frustration. Tired of the same old argument that _Peggy knew best_. Relationships were about making decisions together, and Peggy had to start realizing that if they stood a chance of getting through this.

"You should have told me, Peggy that you were hurt. I would have been by your side in seconds, but who am I kiddin' huh? You didn't want me there puttin' a damper on your shitty love triangle."

"If Whitney Frost could do this to me," Peggy snapped, pointing to her scar. "Then what would she have done to you? You would have been a target Angie, and I could not live with myself if something ever happened to you."

"So you push me aside, like I mean nothin'?"

"That couldn't be the farthest thing from the truth. You meant too much, don't you see that?"

"That's funny?" Angie started to chuckle. A dry bitter sound passing her lips. "You say you wanted to protect me from all the big bad things in this world, but you didn't give any thought to protectin' my heart Peggy. You broke it, smashed it up when you were playin' at being the little temptress. You were it for me, Pegs. Pity you couldn't say the same about me huh?"

"Angie please," Peggy stepped forward, both of her hands taking hold of Angie's shoulders. "People make mistakes. _I_   made a huge mistake and I have to live with that. I truly didn't know what I had until it was gone. Until I realised you might walk out of my life forever. I've been an idiot, Angie. An absolute tosser, as they say, for what I have done to you... I need you to let me put this right. Please?"

"You cheated on me, Peggy," Angie tried to keep her voice strong and her tears at bay. "You've said you're sorry, but you still haven't told me why?"

"I.. never claimed to be perfect--"

"Why do you keep bringing that up?" Angie frowned. "I never said you had to be perfect!"

Peggy let her hands fall to her sides, turning away slightly before she replied. "Don't you see that you've always made me feel that way. From the moment you first looked at me; till, even now after everything I have done, you still look at me like I've hung the moon and stars. I've known for a long time that no one could ever love me the way you do. No one would ever be so loyal as you... and I.. I panicked OK. I was afraid."

Peggy finally confessed the secret weighing heavy on her heart.

"Yes! _Me_ , you heard right. I, Peggy Carter was scared. I failed in my mission to protect Steve, and I'm petrified that the same thing will happen with you. That one day I will lose you too. I thought it would be better in the long run if I pushed you away. At least then you would be safe from _me_."

_Finally the truth._

Something Angie always feared to be true; Peggy sacrificing her own happiness, no matter the cost. Her heart so dedicated to the _mission_ that she wouldn't even allow herself love?

No soul could live alone on this earth. Life was hard enough without isolating yourself. Even the Cap had his howling commandos.

Peggy was only hurting herself in the long run if she continued living life this way.

  
"Everyone gets scared Pegs, even big shot agents, but you can't keep using that as a reason to push me away. You can't."

"Everyday that you're with me, puts you in danger," Peggy exhaled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "I thought me leaving would make life easier, but it didn't. Clearly I'm selfish because I can't do it. I can't be without you."

Angie sighed, her agent had never looked more broken. "You're not selfish for wantin' love, Peggy. It makes you human. Not just some war machine."

"Angie please," Peggy pleaded, reaching out her hand for Angie to take. "Come home."

"You think by telling me this, that it excuses what you've done. You've hurt me Peggy."

"I know, and if I could change the past, I would."

The honey-blonde took a seat next to her gal. She really didn't know what she should do. She felt emotionally exhausted. She just wanted her heart to finally heal.

"I dunno what to think anymore. I'm just... tired, OK. I'm tired."

"I can change," Peggy uttered remorsefully, next to her. "I want to change for you. For us." She held Angie's hand tighter.

Angie knew that she meant those words. In the moment of their private intimacy, Peggy wholly believes, but Angie knew deep down that it's just another broken promise in the making. Peggy is always a soldier first. It's ingrained far too deep within her. Peggy will be a soldier until the day she dies. A day, Angie prays will be many, many years down the line. Peggy aged, donning white hair and wrinkles in her comfy bed. Happy with the world she helped to put to rights.

  
Angie wanted that. She wanted her gal to find peace away from war.

She wanted Peggy to be happy and loved.

  
In her silence Peggy spoke again.

  
"You can't keep punishing me Angie."

Angie shook her head. "No, but I can't think straight when I'm around you Peggy. You... cloud my mind," she rubbed her temples. "I... need time to think. I... just need some time to think."

With a nod, Peggy lay her head on Angie's shoulder, and together they just sat in silence.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone thinks the rating of this story should be moved up to Mature, please let me know. x
> 
> Tosser -- English slang for jerk.

**Author's Note:**

> More very soon...


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